


Mind Over Matter

by wesleyfanfiction_archivist



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-05
Updated: 2004-02-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 63,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7095811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleyfanfiction_archivist/pseuds/wesleyfanfiction_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spell gone wrong, an evil law firm and annoyingly haunting family members all add up to the worst day Wesley has ever had. Set at the end of S2 before Pylea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Over Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Versaphile, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [WesleyFanfiction.net](http://fanlore.org/wiki/WesleyFanFiction.Net). Deciding that it needed to have a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact the e-mail address on [WesleyFanfiction.net collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesleyfanfiction/profile).

PART 1.

They had been researching all night.

Ever since their latest client had shown up, offering to pay well -very well - for their services, the gang had been hitting the books, looking for information.

This kind of thing wasn't what they usually did, Cordelia admitted that. What with the visions and the whole 'mission' thing, fighting the good fight for the Powers That Be, they didn't really have time for personal requests. But this guy had some serious money, and boy, did Cordelia need a bonus.

She had been the first to accept the 'case', if that's what you could call it, before either Angel or Wesley could object. She knew they would probably have had doubts about the value of this particular project. The guy wasn't exactly hopeless, and that was who Angel Investigations had been set up to protect.

She'd had no choice.

She'd had to get in there, quick, before the others turned him away, or put him off.

See, what both Angel and Wesley had still failed to recognise was that she knew wealth; she understood style. She could tell, as soon as a client walked through the door, (and granted, that didn't happen very often), whether or not they could afford to pay, usually by taking a good look at what they were wearing.

This particular client, a pale skinned demon with kinda funny looking pink eyes, had carried himself into the Hyperion with a certain air about him. Cordelia had noticed it straight away, it just screamed sophistication. Wearing a neat and well-tailored navy suit and tie, there was no doubt that this guy meant business.

Cordelia had immediately presented him to Angel and Wesley in the office, not wanting to let this one slip away. He didn't take much encouragement from then on to tell his story.

Apparently, he was a descendant of a highly respected clan of demon and was currently the head of the family. Insisting from the beginning that he and his kind were of a peaceful nature, he went on to explain that his ancestors had built up their wealth by various respectable means, but always by taking advantage of a characteristic specific to their breed.

They were able to manipulate certain magical energies, depending on the unique strengths of the individual.

Only the clan leader was blessed with this gift, inheriting it from the previous by being the first born of the new generation.

Wesley had asked the demon all sorts of weird questions, clearly fascinated by the whole thing. Cordelia hadn't understood most of it, and Angel had just stood there, knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

When Wesley's curiosity seemed finally to have been satisfied, for the moment at least, Angel had broken his silence, encouraging the demon to get to the point.

This guy had been using his powers to run a company that provided protection for people, magical shields and the like, catering for only the most exclusive of customers.

Someone, he had no idea who, had found a way to cut off his access to the energy he tapped, rendering his power useless and putting his business at risk. This 'someone' was also then trying to blackmail him in return for the restoration of his gift.

The demon wanted Angel Investigations to find a way of breaking the spell, or curse, or whatever it was, but that they needn't look at catching the person responsible, he'd 'take care' of that himself. 

When this last statement had raised a few eyebrows, he had quickly mentioned that he needed the operation to be discrete to prevent alarming his customers, and that he had certain 'connections' that could help prevent the problem from occurring again.

This guy could obviously afford to cough up the ransom and, as Wesley quickly pointed out, if he was already in the magic business, he surely didn't need their help.

Angel didn't look that eager to get involved either. Helping demons gain powerful magical abilities didn't really feature highly on his list of priorities.

Coredlia had sensed what was coming. They were going to shake their heads and say 'sorry, we can't help you'.

Images of that really tastefully expensive pair of shoes she had been eyeing up recently had flashed before her eyes, and she had jumped in to reassure the client, saying 'you can count on us' and ushering him out of the office door before the inevitable argument ensued.

'Come back tomorrow and we'll see what we can do', she had said, giving him her best sparkly movie-star smile and closing the door on him before he could protest. 

'Cordelia!?' Wesley and Angel had shouted in unison after their initial shock at her eagerness had worn off, Wesley about to do his whole I'm-the-boss thing.

Sigh. They were never grateful. She'd rolled her eyes, ready to point out the obvious, starting with the fact that they had nothing better to do anyway.

She'd put on her best Queen C face, prepared to engage Wesley in a fight to the death conflict that both of them knew he could never win, when the door had opened again to admit the demon's head round the corner. He obviously didn't appreciate being unceremoniously hoofed out and left in the lobby.

He'd apparently forgotten to mention that he was being blackmailed for precisely $1 million big US dollars, and that he was prepared to pay the amount to them instead.

At that, Angel had slapped his hands together in an exaggerated palm rub, a huge grin on his face.

'Best get to work then, eh, Wes?' 

 

Since then, it had been an all night book-a-thon. They'd called in Gunn to help, even though he was supposed to be having a night off. He'd been more than willing to join in, however, once he had been informed of the prize at stake.

Having asked the demon for a few more details, including his name, (forgotten in the confusion), Wesley had learnt that 'Mr. Harris' was a 142 year old Neshtu demon, or whatever the hell it was. Cordelia was never very good at remembering funny demony names, and she hadn't really been listening when Wesley had excitedly reported his findings to the group.

A load of old, dusty books had been dragged out from somewhere as they looked for restoration spells and any information about the kind of being that could be capable of blocking such a gift in the first place. It wasn't a case objective, but Angel had had his suspicions.

Just to make sure, Wesley had also looked up their client's breed to confirm that this wasn't some kind of set-up. The guy's story was sound.

At first, the group's enthusiasm for the money involved had fuelled their research, knowing that this simple task could set them up comfortably for a long while to come. After several hours had passed, however, it had become clear that this would not be as easy as it had seemed at first.

They could find nothing.

 

Cordelia closed the book she was reading; having found that it was a dead end.

What was the time?

She glanced at her watch... 4.00am.

They had been at this for early eight hours.

She looked round at the others to see if they too were feeling the effects of eyestrain.

Gunn, leaning on a pile of books he had stacked on the reception counter, had fallen asleep when no one was looking.

Cordy smirked to herself when she thought about going over there and shaking him awake. She thought better of it though, deciding that she'd have done the same had she not been assigned the lobby sofa from which to do her work.

She sighed and shifted round slightly to get a better view through the office door. Wesley was sat at his desk, looking through a particularly large volume. He always had to do those ones; he was the only one who could read the languages.

As she watched, he lifted a hand to his face and pulled off his glasses. He gave his eyes a rub with his thumb and forefinger before replacing them and continuing with his work.

He looked completely drained, his tired eyes and face looking strained and stressed. He always did fret too much if he couldn't find what he was looking for. Cordelia guessed that he didn't like to let them all down. He was supposed to be the one who was good at this sort of stuff, and he hated to fail them.

"Poor Wesley", Cordelia thought to herself. He had already stayed up half of last night, trying to tie up loose ends from their previous case. She wondered if he had actually gone home at all in the last 48 hours, let alone gotten some sleep.

For a moment, she felt a bit guilty for wanting to give up and go to bed. She'd only come to work at 6.00pm, having left Wesley in the office the night before. At least she had gotten some rest.

More than before, the urge to go and shake Gunn awake tempted her until she could no longer resist. Tip-toeing her way towards him, she halted abruptly when she realised that she hadn't noticed Angel around. Where was he?

"If he thinks he can sneak away and go to bed when we're all working down here, he's got another thing coming," she grumbled to herself as she made a move for the staircase. Her fatigue was making her feel irritable now, so Angel had better have a good excuse.

She'd be damned if she was going to carry on like this when Angel, a vampire, a supposed 'creature of the night' was giving up so easily, having already slept through most of the day.

"Just wait till I find you, you big quitter."

She was halfway up the staircase when she saw Angel turn the corner of the landing, making his way down towards her.

"Who says I'm a big quitter?" he asked with a slight smile, waving a hefty book at her.

Cordelia cursed Angel's vampire hearing, as she often did, and waited for him to reach her.

"I though you'd tried to escape us," she admitted, "Where did you go?"

"Well, we weren't having any luck finding a spell that would work on demons in any of the books downstairs. I'm sure I remembered seeing something in a book I had in my room, so I went to get it."

"Boy, you must have some real interesting bed-time reading up there, huh?"

Angel ignored her comment and walked straight past her. She followed him, trying not to trip in the dim light.

"So, you found something then?" Cordelia inquired when it seemed like Angel wasn't going to spill the beans.

"I don't know yet, I wanted to show it to Wes. Where is he?"

"Oh, he's in the office trying to translate some weird dark-age language or something, I think."

They moved across the Hyperion lobby and Angel motioned towards Cordelia's own pile of research.

"You find anything?" he asked her.

"You're kidding, right? Did you know that there are, like, 26 sub-species of Nestoo demon, or whatever, and that each one needs a different kind of spell? None of which are actually in the book. How helpful is that?"

"It's Neshtu," Angel corrected, "And yes, I did know that. It says something like it in here.

He waved the book again, ignoring Cordelia's groan of annoyance.

"Anytime you want to share that kind of info with me is just fine, but why don't you try and do it before I go thorough eight painstakingly frustrating hours of research, OK?"

"I guess Gunn couldn't handle the pace then?" Angel said, changing the subject.

"Yeah, he took the easy way out. Too bad now he'll have to forfeit his share of the money since he's done NOTHING TO HELP!"

She maliciously yelled the last part loudly in Gunn's ear when they reached the counter, making him jump and nearly fall backwards out of his seat.

"Hey, girl! What're ya tryin' to do, give me a heart attack?" he cried in surprise.

"No, but I thought I might deafen you to teach you a lesson." She grinned a satisfied grin and Gunn smiled back sarcastically at her.

"So, have you guys actually got something, cuz, I'm gettin' reeeal bored," he said, stretching and yawning.

"More than you have at any rate," Cordelia answered, "Angel's just gonna ask Wesley now."

"Hey, Wes?" Angel called.

No answer.

He and Cordelia walked into the office and found that Wesley too had now succumbed to exhaustion. Arms sprawled out over the desk in front; he had collapsed over his book with his glasses pushed crookedly up his face.

"Wow, he looks like the dead," Cordelia commented, immediately regretting it when she remembered who was standing next to her. She shot Angel an apologetic look, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention. He had a slight look of concern on his face and was moving over to where Wesley was sat.

"He didn't go home again last night, did he?" Angel half-whispered to Cordelia.

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I guess I kind of left him here when I went home."

Gunn came over and stood in the doorway, smiling when he saw that he wasn't the only one to have crashed out on the books.

"Wesley practically lives in this offices," Gunn thought to himself. It wasn't the first time he had caught him pulling an all-nighter like this. He wondered if the man got more rest here than he did at home.

"You should probably let him get some sleep," he suggested, "He looks whacked. He won't go home if you wake him up."

Angel tried to prise a pen that was leaking ink out of Wesley's hand, but the slight movement woke him with a start.

He jerked upwards, knocking a glass of water over on the desk.

"Buggar!" he cursed, quickly moving some really ancient looking books out of the way.

He looked up and blinked stupidly, realising that everyone was standing in the room and staring at him.

He hastily corrected his glasses and turned bright red, an embarrassed look on his face.

"I - I'm sorry, I must have..." he began, trying to smooth down his ruffled hair. He winced suddenly, moving a hand to his side. The awkward movement had aggravated his wound.

"What time is it?" he asked, avoiding the questioning and worried glances his companions gave him.

"'Bout half past four," Gunn replied.

"In the morning?" Wes asked, as if to confirm his suspicions. "I didn't realise. I mean, I hadn't intended to keep you all here this long."

"It's OK, Wes," Angel assured, putting a hand on his friends shoulder.

The room sank into a sort of awkward silence and Angel shuffled uneasily. He pulled his hand away and stuck it in his pocket. He was never any good at the physical stuff, you know, showing affection. And since the whole alienation during the Darla episode, he'd made an extra effort to be friendly. He wondered if his gesture had seemed sincere. He'd lingered too long again, hadn't he? Was the hand thing too much?

Wesley looked at Cordelia and Gunn in turn, becoming slightly uncomfortable when he saw the little half-hidden smiles on their faces.

"What?" he asked innocently.

The two glanced at each other, a knowing look in their eyes. Cordelia decided that she would have to be the one to say something.

She moved forward and perched on the edge of the desk, avoiding the puddle of water that had collected there.

"Wesley..." She'd tried not to use her nagging tone of voice, but it wasn't working very well.

"Don't you think you should go home now and get some rest? You don't have to prove anything to us, you know."

Wesley frowned, slightly confused.

"What do you mean? I'm fine, really. I want to get this done so that we'll be ready for when Mr. Harris arrives tomorrow...er...I mean later today."

Gunn gave Angel a raised eyebrow look that said 'I told you so'.

"I don't need to go home."

Cordelia sighed and bowed her head, closing her eyes for a moment.

OK. Time for the Cordelia serious face.

She looked back up and met Wesley's eyes.

"You're not fooling me, you know. I'm Cordelia, remember? Me. Seer. I know all."

Wesley's puzzled look only deepened. She continued.

"You can barely keep your eyes open. And you're not feeling 100% yet, are you? You promised you wouldn't work too hard until you were feeling OK. You're supposed to be resting and healing. This 'working overtime' isn't helping."

Again, there was a heavy silence that hung in the air like fog. It seemed nobody knew what to say next.

Wesley looked at the others for support, but didn't get any. He looked back into Cordelia's big hazel eyes and he visibly relaxed a little.

She was right; he hadn't felt completely up to this yet. It was going to take a while for him to regain the strength and stamina the gunshot wound had taken from him. He'd just wanted this to work for them so much, seeing as how it seemed to mean so much to them. Despite their best efforts, he knew that he was going to have to be the one to do this, since they had no previous experience.

Damn. He thought he had hidden the pain and general lethargy well. Was it that obvious that even Cordelia could tell? He really didn't want to worry them. It wasn't worth it.

"Please, Wesley," Cordelia begged, "Just go upstairs to one of Angel's spare rooms. I bet after five minutes you'll be dead to the world... no offence, Angel."

Wesley couldn't help but smile. Good old Cordy. How could he resist her? There was not a day that went by that he wasn't thankful for his friends. He didn't know what he would do without them. Crumble into insignificance, probably.

"Hey, no problem," winked Cordelia as if guessing his thoughts, "What are friends for?"

She caught a glimpse of Angel pointing at his book.

"Ooh, before you go, just take a quick look at this. Sorry, almost forgot."

Wesley turned and took the book from Angel's hands without saying a word, an amused expression on his face.

Gunn was rolling his eyes and slowly shaking his head in disbelief.

"Sorry," Cordelia repeated, feeling slightly foolish.

Angel opened the book in front of Wesley and tapped on the appropriate passage.

" I must have found this a while ago," he explained, "I'd nearly forgotten about it. I can't read some of the text, but I think it should be helpful."

Wesley's whole face lightened up as he read through the page.

"Angel, you've found it!" he cried jubilantly. "Yes, this is it, a spell that can be used to 'return that which was lost to a being not of this earth and verily restore power to all'."

"What exactly does that mean?" asked Cordy. Well, someone had to. It was inevitable.

"Well, you know how we've been having trouble finding the right spell because they tended to rather disagree with demon physiology? It just so happens that this one covers all beings, humans as well. It's got a description of the procedure, and a list of all the ingredients we shall need. This is excellent, well done Angel."

Trying not to blush, Angel cleared his throat. "What about the ingredients? Can we get them?" He wasn't about to believe their good luck just yet.

Wesley gave the list a quick scan and nodded.

"Nothing too out of the ordinary here. Any standard magic shop should have what we need. I can go now, I know a good place that'll..."

"Oh, no. Not so fast mister." Cordelia rose to block Wesley's way out of the office and put a restraining hand on his chest. She took the jacket out of his hand that he had taken from the back of his chair.

"You're not getting away that easily. I can see what you're trying to do. You're going to bed whether you want to or not. I'm not having you sleeping on the job and drooling all over the spell when our demon guy gets here."

"Cordelia..." he tried to protest, but she just lifted her chin and squared her gaze a bit more.

"Me and Gunn can take care of it. Give me the book." 

She snatched it from Wesley's hand and passed it to Gun behind her back before he could retrieve it. Gunn then gave it a once over.

"Nothing too out of the ordinary?!" he imitated in a surprise tone. "What do you call 'powdered skilosh bone' if not 'out-of-the-ordinary'?" He made an 'unbelievable!' noise as he turned to leave the office with the book.

"Whoa, I mean, I was expectin' maybe 'eye-of-newt', but actual body parts?  
This is just too weird..."

Cordelia turned back to Wesley and gave him a stern eyeful.

"Now, we'll only be gone a little while," she said condescendingly, "You don't need to worry about anything. If I find you're not upstairs when I get back, there's going to be big trouble, understand?" She narrowed her eyes menacingly.

Wesley smiled and nodded. She relented and leant back a little, putting her 'pointy' finger back down by her side.

"All right then, good. We'll be back later."

She gave Angel a warning glance as if to say 'don't let me down' and left to follow Gunn.

Angel smiled to himself and shook his head before herding Wesley upstairs.

PART 2.

 

Cordelia burst through the Hyperion doors, a huge cardboard box in her arms, closely followed by Gunn who was precariously balancing a load of magical junk under his chin, kicking the door out of the way with his foot.

"I still can't believe that any of that stuff could be legal," Gunn moaned as he wobbled down the steps, "I mean, bat wings in jars? Come on, that's just sick. And I don't even wannna know what they've got stashed behind that counter."

He looked at some of the objects he was carrying with distaste.

"Why couldn't this have been a rare vegetable spell or something? You know, magic roots, essence of garlic, bunch of herbs. Oh, and I'd just like to say now that I am NOT touching that yellow goo in the bottle. It looks nasty. What with the smell an' all, I just don't wanna go there."

"Quit complaining, you're giving me a headache," said Cordelia with passion, "Besides, we don't have to worry about that. Wesley'll probably do the whole preparation bit. We'll just have to do the odd bit of candle lighting and inane chanting, that's all."

Cordelia dumped her box on the reception counter with a grunt.

Angel emerged from Wesley's office with a load of files and started putting them back into their respective cabinets.

"What're you doing with those?" Cordelia asked absently whilst closely examining her fingernails. She had come * this * close to snapping one, and she would not have been pleased. She ignored Gunn as he struggled to put everything down without breaking certain fragile items.

Angel slammed the cabinet drawers home and came over to scrutinise the goods.

"You get everything?" he asked in his usual disinterested tone.

"You didn't answer my question," Cordelia stated defensively, "So I'm not going to tell you."

She pulled out her tongue at him and put her hands on her hips.

"I was just checking previous cases to see if anything like this had come up before. Just wanted to see if I could find out who might be capable of pulling a stunt like this. I don't know, I guess it was the way Harris had shrugged it off before. It just seemed... weird. Like some kind of personal vendetta or something. Maybe I'm just being overly cynical and suspicious, but something doesn't add up and I don't want to find out that we've done all this for the wrong reasons."

"Oh, who cares about all that, Angel, just remember the money..." She rubbed her thumbs and fingers together in an 'I-wanna-be-rich' gesture.

Angel's expression turned serious for a moment and he looked as though he was going to give Cordy a lecture.

"Oh, I know," she said before Angel could start going on at her about being responsible and sensible. "I suppose it doesn't hurt to be careful."

Gunn, having brushed all of the filth off of his jeans from artefacts that had been left alone on the shelf too long, looked slowly around the lobby and then back at Angel.

"So, where are we gonna do this? In here?"

The vampire nodded in reply.

"The book said something about needing a large enclosed space, so here should do fine."

"Wesley's doing the spell though, right?" Cordelia asked, remembering some of the strange words in the incantation. She wasn't sure if she trusted anyone else to do it, and certainly not herself, especially if it was going to be performed right here in their hotel. "Speaking of which, is he OK?"

"Yeah, I gave him a spare room. I'll leave him for a couple more hours, but then we'll need him to get things ready for when our demon arrives."

It was 6.00 am now. Angel had told Mr. Harris to come back at about 9.30 am to see what they had come up with. He probably wouldn't be expecting them to have found a cure so soon, or for it all to be done right there and then, but hey, the sooner they got this cleared up, the sooner they'd get their cheque.

"Well..." Cordelia stretched her arms over her head and yawned. "As much as I'm looking forward to the big magic show..."

"Whoa, wait a second. Where are you going? We've got ingredients to prepare," Angel interrupted.

Cordelia glared at him.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Gunn inquired. "I thought Wes would do it. I already said that I was not gonna touch that stuff, it's just not... healthy."

"Hey, come on you guys," said Angel, sensing their unwillingness to participate and dreading what was to come. "It'll be fun..." He said that last part more as a question than a fact, trying to persuade them to have more enthusiasm.

"Nope. Sorry. No can do. I already stayed up all night AND did the shopping. You two can do it. I'm gonna catch some, upstairs."

And with that, she turned and left the two boys to their work.

"I guess it's up to us then," said Gunn with resignation.

 

They both got stuck in, Gunn cringing occasionally when he came across some of the more unsavoury items. Between them, they managed to concoct the necessary powders and vials, as well as set out an area of the lobby floor with candles, (there are always candles, Gunn thought), and some pretty looking sparkly dust.

All they had to do now was kill a few of hours and wait for their client to arrive.

* * *

Cordelia, despite feeling dog-tired and being really anxious to avoid setting up the spell downstairs, found it hard to get much rest. It was the same thing that happened when she knew a vision was due, except that this was slightly different; she just couldn't relax. Like something was going to happen. Well, duh, she told herself and she shook the feeling off. After about two hours of tossing and turning, she decided to give it up. So much for that nap.

It was around 8.00 am now and the demon guy would be here soon anyway. Having no spare clothes to change into, she used the en suite bathroom to the room she'd been using to freshen herself up.

Considering herself to be at least moderately presentable, she made her way down to the end of the corridor to find Wesley. He needed to get up now so that he could check that everything was in order.

She found his room with the door ajar and entered, knocking softly.

"Wesley, are you up yet?"

When her eyes had adjusted to the dimness of the room, she noticed Wesley curled up on the bed, having only managed to kick off his shoes before falling asleep.

It was a shame to wake him so early, but they had work to do. She opened the drapes to let in some of the early morning sunshine and he stirred at the noise they made.

'He's a light sleeper', Cordelia thought to herself, knowing that it would have taken a herd of elephants trampling through her room to wake her up if she was that tired. Maybe it was just because he was on edge.

He rolled over and squinted at her, smiling and stretching when he had retrieved his glasses and realised it was her.

"Morning already?" he asked, somewhat disappointedly, in a quiet, sleepy voice.

"Sorry, Wes, but we need you downstairs now."

"OK, I'm coming", he said, hoisting himself up off of the duvet. "Just give me five minutes to get ready."

"Sure thing", Cordelia replied, closing the door after her.

When she had almost reached the ground floor, she could her Angel and Gunn joking around. She discovered that they had pulled a pack of cards out from some dark crevice somewhere and were playing a game that, surprisingly, Angel knew the rules to.

Gunn must have won the last hand, the smug grin he was wearing telling all.

"I. Am. On. Fire!!" he cried triumphantly, slamming his cards down in front of an appalled looking Angel. "Unlucky my friend!"

Angel frowned at his cards and decided that it was a stupid game anyway. He collected them up and gave them a professionally executed shuffle. He dealt them out again.

"This time, I'll choose the game", he told Gunn.

He had played enough in his time to know that he was good at some of the more 'old-fashioned' games, so if he picked, he would win.

Cordelia looked down at the lobby floor in approval.

"You guys have been busy. All done?"

"Don't worry 'bout us", Gunn boasted, "We are now the official spell-masters of the company."

"I knew if I left for too long that my post would be stolen from under me", said the familiar British accent coming from the staircase.

"Yo, English!" Gunn greeted, seeing his friend coming towards them. "You're just in time for a game with this fine gamblin' man." He patted Angel on the back, clearly enjoying his chance to tease.

'Not for long', Angel thought to himself with a sinister smile.

Wesley approached their table and pulled up a chair, saying,

"Well, I'm knackered, and there's still work to be done, but I suppose there's time to give you both a quick thrashing before we get started."

"Hey, that there's fightin' talk", said Gunn in an accent that even he did not know the origins of.

"Fine," said Cordelia, feeling a little left out, "If you'll even let Wesley play, then I'm in too."

"I believe you under-estimate me, Cordelia", he retorted with a smirk.

"We'll just see about that."

* * *

True to his word, Wesley had beaten them all at their game, leaving Angel feeling slightly annoyed that his many years of experience hadn't succeeded of pure brain-power. Wesley was now the proud owner of $32.75, and one hell of a nice watch.

Having amused themselves for a short while, they'd gone on to make the last few checks before Wesley had been satisfied that everything was in place.

As it happened, Mr. Harris was half an hour late for his 'appointment'. Not only that, but he had given them a hard time when Wesley had tried to explain the spell to him. Right now, this little albino demon was not one of Cordy's favourite people.

OK, so he wasn't expecting something quite like this so soon, but he wasn't exactly being co-operative, or even civil. Everyone's patience was being worn thin, and Cordelia was exactly renowned for being one of the most easy-going of people.

"Here, drink this", Wesley ordered, handing the demon the vial of liquid that Angel and Gunn had prepared earlier,

The demon examined it carefully and sniffed at it, turning up his nose and demanding,

"What is it?"

"It's a safety feature to ensure you don't feel any pain or discomfort during the procedure. Any sudden rush of energy such as this spell produces is likely to give those on the receiving end a rough ride." Wesley managed a calm, polite voice despite his obvious annoyance. He was doing this guy a favour when he could probably use a bit of pain, Cordelia mused.

The demon drank it cautiously, finding the taste most unpleasant, much to the amusement of the others. He handed the tiny bottle back to Wesley and stepped into the middle of a circle lightly traced on the lobby floor.

Lighted candles had been set up around them in a much larger circle that took up nearly the entire lobby, and everyone was stood within it at their own strategic points.

"Do we have to hold hands now and sing?" Gunn joked, trying to relieve some of the building tension.

Wesley looked anxious, but Gunn assumed that he'd feel the same way, were the roles reversed. Everyone was depending on him. None of his feelings were betrayed in his voice, however. He spoke, as ever, in the cool and collected British tone, unwavering under the pressure.

"This should only take minute", Wesley explained to the demon in his reserved English manner. "I'm afraid after completion it may take a few hours for the restoration to fully take effect, so we won't know immediately if the spell has been successful."

The demon would probably have made another testing remark to this, but Wesley began before he could object.

With the book held open in one hand and, yep, you've guessed it, a glowing crystal in the other, Wesley began the incantation. He read in demon tongue from the book, and then repeated a certain phrase three times. At this point, he stopped and looked up at Cordelia.

That was her cue.

She snapped herself out of her daydream and reached into the pot she was holding, pulling out a handful of purple dust and sprinkling it on the floor in front of her.

Wesley continued. Everyone remembered the routine, both Angel and Gunn taking their turns to add to the ever-growing film of dust on the floor.

'This is going to take forever to clean up', Cordelia thought to herself as Wesley came to the climax of the spell.

Broken shards of light began emanating from the glass in his hand. They spread outward, reaching up to the ceiling of the room and then falling down beside each candle, forming a dome of light that surrounded them.

Wesley approached the middle of the room where the demon was standing, looking upwards to the area where the light joined and shone the brightest, saying in English,

"We beseech you, return what is lost and re-forge a connection back to the ether!" 

The others shielded their eyes with their hands as the room was filled with a searing white light. An electric taste stung the air and their ears rang with a fizzing sound that died into a gentle hush not unlike steady rainfall or wind-rippled grass.

Then, in an instant, it was gone, leaving behind a sudden suction that hurt their heads.

It took Cordelia a stunned second to realise what was happening. Something wasn't right.

Wesley gasped in pain and dropped the book and crystal. It smashed when it made contact with the hard floor, sending tiny glass jewels jingling across the lobby. He staggered backwards until his back met the banister, forcing him to stop.

Angel and Gunn ran to aid their friend, unsure of what was wrong. The terror etched across Wesley's face rooted Cordelia to the spot. It was all she could do to stand, watching in horror as an unearthly feeling crept over her heart.

One by one and in an eerily well-timed sequence, each candle snuffed itself out with a sizzle. Cordelia followed its progress with her eyes until every last one ceased to produce anything more than a wisp of smoke. A short, sharp gust disturbed the dust on the floor and swept past her, chilling her to the bone when it ran through her hair. She waited for something menacing to happen, but only silence followed.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding and glanced at their demon client. He was shaking with shock, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He closed his eyes for a second and endured a final shiver, smiling when he opened them again. He brought his palms up in front of his face and flexed his clawed fingers.

"This is great, what a rush!" he cried. "It's all come back, I can feel it. The energy... the power!"

He was pretty much preoccupied with himself for the moment, so Cordelia turned her attention back to Wesley, finally summoning up enough strength to move herself.

She ran over to where Angel and Gunn had huddled round him like mother hens, pushing them aside to get close.

"What happened?! Is he alright?" she asked, a hint of panic seeping through her voice.

"I'm fine", Wesley said, rather distantly, passing a trembling hand over his eyes. "I just... I need to..." He took a deep breath. "I don't feel so g-"

His legs gave way before he could finish his sentence. Angel's quick reactions not failing him, he reached out a strong arm in support, catching him before he collapsed to the ground. 

An irrational fear gripped Wesley, and he cried out, clutching onto Angel's shirt in desperation.

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's OK, I've got you", Angel assured, touched by his obvious plight.

Angel lowered him down gently before spasms of pain ripped through his body, contorting his face and reducing him to flailing around wildly, thrashing against the invisible assailant. 

Gunn helped Angel to pin him down, preventing him from injuring himself in his struggles. When it seemed that the agony had ended, Wesley was left a shivering wreck, hyperventilating and sweating profusely. His eyes squeezed shut; he was shaking his head from side to side, repeating 'nononono' over and over again.

"Angel, help him" Cordelia pleaded, choking down the sobs as she stood feeling frightened and useless.

Gunn looked into Angel's eyes, confirming that both of them were thinking the same thing. The spell must have gone wrong, terribly wrong, and this was a side effect. They couldn't take to a hospital. How would the explain this? And they had no idea what to do either, this kind of thing was in Wesley's area of expertise, not theirs. They had only one choice. They would have to do the best they could with their limited resources and wait, hoping for the best.

Leaving their client to his own devices, Angel picked up Wes in his arms and carried him away up the staircase, closely followed by Gunn and finally, Cordelia, who cursed the day that demon had ever walked into Angel Investigations.

PART 3.

 

Here he was again, back in the dark. He hated the dark so much, but he would never tell anyone. If father found out that he had admitted to such a childish fear...  
No, he wouldn't even think it.

Don't be so pathetic, boy. Young men are not afraid of such trivial things. The sooner you learn that, the better.

Why was he here again? He couldn't remember. His head still hurt too much. He must have done something else wrong, one more failure to add to the ever-growing list. Father said he would never do this without a reason, it was all for his own good.

Father knows best.

Best just wait it out, like he always did, and use the silence to think about how he could make himself better for next time. If only he could try a little harder, be a little braver in the next test, he wouldn't disappoint.

* GASP * What was that? There is something in here with him, he could hear it. Or was it just his own movement? He couldn't see in the dark, it was too black.

You are such a wimp. Coward. Stand up for yourself.

He shuffled backwards. He knew the wall was there, it always was. It was safe, his only comfort in this God-forsaken little hole. If he just hid here and made himself really small, no one would notice him and he would be left alone. That was all he wanted, to disappear. He was worthless anyway. Who would even care if he just ceased to be? Certainly not father. Maybe this was the one thing he could do to please him.

Stupid thing to think. You can't disappear anyway. Go on, do what you always do, run away. Hide.

He cradled his legs in his arms, pulling his knees up to his chin and sat, breathing as quietly as he could so as not to draw the attention of the monster. Stupid really. He knew, deep down, that there was nothing there. When the door was opened and he was finally let out again, (he would be this time, wouldn't he?), the light would pour in and show just how silly he had been. There was nothing there, it was just a closet.

Still, what if...?

No point in calling out, no one would hear you or help you. Don't even think about trying to get out either. You can't. Such cowardice would only award him with more punishment anyway,

Take it like a man, boy.

Now that was ironic, wasn't it? Stop it. You shouldn't think such things about father. He's a good man, always trying to do what's best. You'll only make him angry.

That's decided it then. He would just sit here and suffer in silence. He wouldn't cry. He would NOT.

Too late.

The tears are already there, running down his cheeks and following the same route as they had done so many times before. There have been so many, perhaps now they remember which way they have been already.

You'd better wipe those away before father finds you, or there will be trouble.

 

* * *

Angel stood in the corner of the room, assessing the situation.

They had brought Wesley up here and calmed him down. Now, he lay unconscious on the bed, and nothing they could do would rouse him. They just couldn't reach him; there was nothing.

Cordelia was sat on a chair next to the bed, leaning her elbows on the covers with her head in her hands. He wondered what she was thinking. She'd already refused to cry, refused to talk, refused to leave. She just sat there looking utterly mortified.

Angel wished that there was something he could do to comfort her, but whenever he had tried; she had just brushed him away, not knowing what to feel.

Maybe she was just getting a few things straight in her head. All this was a cover. She was trying to look strong. It wasn't working on Angel. He'd just have to keep his distance and wait until the time was right. He'd be there for her, when she needed him. For now, he'd just support her from a distance.

He looked at the digital clock on the bedside table for what must have been the fifteenth time in a row. 

Where was Gunn? He didn't think he would take this long.

With the initial frantic dash over, Angel had sent him down to do a couple of things.

Firstly, they had needed to get rid of Harris. Angel had told Gunn to pretend that everything was fine and tell him he could go. He should return to the Hyperion as soon as he could use his powers again, just to let them know. Angel didn't want Gunn to even bother about mentioning the money. That wasn't important right now.

Having done that, Gunn was instructed to go out and bring back the one person he could think of who might be able to help.

He'd been gone for nearly an hour now. What was taking him so long?

Angel couldn't bare it. All this waiting and not being able to help. It was sending him crazy.

He started to pace the room, staring at the same spot on the carpet the whole time. After several lengths, he noticed Cordelia shift slightly.

"Angel, please stop doing that. You're bugging the crap out of me", she said quietly with none of her usual fiery temper. She hadn't even moved her hands or looked up.

He did as he was told, feeling slightly comforted that at least he had gotten a response out of her. All was not lost, she hadn't flipped just yet.

Angel then snapped his head up. Someone was coming. He could hear two sets of footfalls and the rustle of clothing. It must be them. He waited with baited breath, despite the fact that he didn't need to breathe anyway, and tried to stare a hole through the door. It was all he could do to restrain himself from rushing forwards and demanding answers. He just ground his teeth instead. Hard.

Sure enough, the door opened to reveal Gunn, whose first instinct was to hurry over to the bed before acknowledging Angel's presence. He was closely followed by The Host, who gingerly stepped his way in, pushing the door shut behind him with a gentle click. He gave Angel a cautious smile, seeing as how the vampire was tensed up rather menacingly in the shadows, a grim expression on his face.

"I'm sorry it took so long, Angel-cakes, I came as soon as I heard. I'm afraid as was rather 'otherwise engaged' when Gunn came to find me, and it always takes a while to brush off company. You know how it is."

Not willing to engage Lorne in a conversation that he would probably regret having later anyway, Angel got straight to the point.

"Is there anything you can do or not?" His tone was cold and unfriendly, making it clear to Lorne that he was not in a good mood.

Lorne swallowed hard, slightly intimidated by Angel's towering form. "I can't promise you anything, but I'll give it a try."

Cordelia had been watching the two of them from her vantage point by the bed, and she moved to give up her seat to Lorne as he approached.

"Thanks, sweet-thing", he said to her as he took it, giving her a smile that melted some of her worries away. If anyone could help them now, it was Lorne. She shuffled round to stand on the other side of the bed with Gunn, and Angel moved forward to get a better view.

Lorne shook his cuffs and got himself ready to begin, leaning over Wesley.

"OK, Wesley, if you can here me, I want you to know that I'm here to help. I'm not going to hurt you, so, just relax. Here we go."

He moved his hands over to Wesley's head, placing two fingers on either side. He felt a small bolt of static jump through his hands as he made contact with skin, and pulled back quickly with an 'Ouch!'.

He looked at the others, slightly confused, and seeing there worried glances, stopped himself from complaining. "OK, no touch. I get it."

He turned back to Wesley and, this time, let his hands rest on the pillow on either side of his head without actually touching him. Cordelia bit at her nails as she watched in silence. The Host just sat there with his eyes closed for what seemed like an eternity. If he didn't say something soon, she was going to have bitten her whole fingers off.

Finally, and with a slight sigh, Lorne leant back in his chair and gave them all an understanding look.

"What you'll be glad to hear is that he's still in there, just kinda buried at the moment somewhere very deep. I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait some more for him to do this on his own. He'll come back in his own time, when he's ready."

"Is that it?" cried Angel, not quite believing what he was hearing. "I thought you were supposed to be able to sense people's futures. Tell us about that!"

"Yeah", Cordelia joined in, "You're, like, mojo guy... so do some mojo already."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. There's a whole load of stuff going on there that just can't reveal to you. I'm sorry, but it's just not up to me. All I can say is that this was meant to happen, and that you'll get your answers soon enough."

'Just like Lorne', Cordelia thought to herself. Always with the cryptic stuff. She sighed and bent her head, resting it on Gunn's shoulder in resignation. Angel just stood there, rubbing his forehead with his hand. 

Then, abruptly, as if he had suddenly gotten over the whole thing, he looked up and randomly asked "Does anyone want anything to drink?"

Cordelia straightened her head and frowned, not sure want to think. He reiterated.

"Cordy, Gunn, you want anything?"

Gunn livened up a bit at the prospect of refreshment, and walked over to join Angel. 

"Sure, I'll come help you get some stuff", he said, "I'm starving. Maybe I should go and fetch some food or somethin' if this is gonna be another all-nighter?" He looked at each of them in turn, as if seeking confirmation. 

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. We're going to need a few things for when... well, you know." Angel opened the door and went out, Gunn pulling Lorne out with them. 

"You gonna be OK in here, Cor?" he asked before he left.

"I'll be fine. You guys go and get whatever it is you need. I can stay here and keep watch. Oh, and thanks Lorne, for all your help."

He winked at her as if to say 'don't you worry about that big ole' vampire', and said "My pleasure" as he left.

Gunn closed the door quietly, leaving Cordelia alone in the room with Wesley and her thoughts.

 

* * *

Not again. He thought he had done better this time, he really had. 

It wasn't his fault. That other boy, the one who had always bullied him, he had brought his friends along with him this time. There was no way one small person on their own could stand up to that and win, no way.

Still, father had told him to stand up for himself, so he had to try.

And he really had tried. He'd fought harder than he ever knew he could, but still, he was no match for them. Three on one. It just wasn't fair.

He'd come home bruised and cut again, and father wasn't pleased. At least he had made it home on his own this time. That had to be worth something, right?

Apparently not. 

A painful grip on his arm, father was dragging him along roughly, not caring about how much he was hurting his son.

There it is again. The stairs. The cupboard. How much more of this was he going to have to take before father realised that he just wasn't strong enough? That's it. He couldn't bare it anymore. He was going to say something, even though he knew it would cost him dearly. 

"Daddy, please, you're hurting me!"

"Not enough, evidently! You would dare to talk back at me?" 

"Please, I couldn't help it, they got me first, it wasn't my fault..."

Father stopped then, and started shaking him by the arm.

"You might want to rethink this, boy. What have I told you about respecting your elders?"

"But-"

There it was. The slap around the head that he knew he was going to get. He felt himself turning red with passion, an anger that he had never felt before, building at the injustice. How could father do this to him, after everything he had already been through? 

Father must have guessed his thoughts, because he become even more angry, hurling him across the hallway and back into that nasty dark hole. The door slammed shut, plunging him into darkness once more. He clutched his head, wanting to scream in frustration but trying desperately to exercise a little self-control. He felt like he wanted to throw something. Hard. Smash it up and vent a little fury...

* * *

Cordelia sat absorbing the silence, staring off into space as she waited for the others to come back. Why it had taken all of them to carry a few drinks back upstairs she could only imagine. Still, it gave her a chance to be on her own for a bit, even if Wesley was still there.

She wondered what was going through his head, if anything at all. Could he hear them? She wanted so badly to believe that Lorne was right, that all they had to do was wait, but she still wanted to find something else, to do something and feel like she was making a difference. Maybe that was her purpose in all this. Just to sit and do nothing but support her friend through whatever it was he was going through.

She slid her hand from under her chin, where it was currently serving as a chin rest, and picked up Wesley's hand. 

Wait a minute. What was that? Did he just flinch at her touch? Praying that she wasn't just imaging it, she stood up and leant a little closer.

"Wesley?"

Damn. It must have been nothing. 

It was at that point that she noticed a building sensation in the air. Something was different. It felt like the room was pressing on her, but she could see nothing.

Then it happened. A chill ran down her spine as a small vase on the other side of the room picked itself up and was flung by an invisible force across the room. It crashed into the wall behind Cordelia, sending fragments flying.

She jumped back and screamed, dropping Wesley's hand on the bed.

She stood gasping for a moment, trying to catch her breath. When nothing else happened, she glanced around the room suspiciously. 

"Phantom Dennis?" she asked cautiously. What a stupid thing to say. She didn't expect an answer, and she didn't get one. Just more silence. The strange feeling had left her, and everything returned to its peaceful state. She scolded herself for being so dense and jumpy. This was obviously something else to do with the spell.

She had no more time to ponder the event as Angel and Gunn came crashing in, scanning the room wildly.

"Cordelia, what happened, are you OK? We heard something break and a scream..."

"Oh, that was just me. I just got a little over excited when that vase over there decided to THROW ITSELF ACROSS THE ROOM!!!" 

She pointed at the shattered object on the floor and proceeded to make her way around the room, collecting up any other loose items she could find.

"Cordelia, what are you doing?" Angel asked when he had finally comprehended what had happened.

"What does it look like? I'm taking these away in case they all decided to start flying towards my head."

She bundled them all into a drawer and looked at the mess on the floor. She bent down to start picking up some of the biggest pieces, trying not to cut herself on the sharp edges. Gunn and Angel moved over to help her, but stopped when they heard a moan from the bed. They all whirled round at once, staring open mouthed as Wesley started to move, bringing his hands up to rub his face.

"Oh my God, Wesley!" Cordelia cried in delight, flinging herself onto the bed and putting her arms around him.

"Ow, my head", he moaned in pain when Cordelia got a bit over zealous in her hugging.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, are you OK?"

"No" he said bluntly, trying to sit up. Angel came to his side, handing him a glass of water and a painkiller he had prepared earlier. Wesley took it without question and swallowed it all, hanging his head again when he'd finished. It felt like the worst hangover in the world plus three of Cordy's visions. He hadn't even dared to open his eyes and look at any of them yet, he knew it would hurt too much.

"What happened?" he asked them in a hoarse voice, "did the spell go wrong?"

Just as Cordelia was about to answer, Lorne walked into the room, holding the spell book in his hands.

"No", he answered for them, "the spell didn't go wrong. This was exactly what was supposed to happen."

PART 4.

 

An explanation. That's what they were waiting for.

It seemed like an age before Lorne finally continued, having paused when he had seen the frozen looks on everyone's faces. With all his experience at Caritas, he didn't think that he could ever feel stage fright. He was wrong.

"OK, so I was downstairs waiting for you guys to finish what you were doing so I could hitch a lift back when I came across your book. I took a quick look through it, I hope you don't mind."

"Yeah? And?" Cordelia probed, ready to burst with anticipation.

"Well, just out of interest, I read some of the parts I could understand, not that there are many of them. I thought maybe it might say something about possible side effects. It doesn't. But it does say something on the next page about what might happen if the spell is performed on human subjects..."

He stopped, waiting for them to catch on. Nope. Not a single spark of recognition. Maybe they just didn't want to comprehend what he was suggesting. He looked at Wesley, hoping that he of all people was beginning to catch his drift, but he wasn't paying the blindest bit of attention. He was too busy cradling his sore head.

Sigh. He rolled his eyes and went into more detail.

"The demon guy you did this for. You gave him something so that he wouldn't feel any pain, right? And it worked. As far as you know, he's fine. My guess is, if he hadn't have taken that in the first place, he would have ended up in the same state as poor Wesley here. Look, what I'm trying to say is, that spell you did? It worked all right. It worked on both of them."

Stunned. That was the only way that Lorne could describe his audience. At least he didn't have to nudge them with his elbow at the end and say 'hint hint'.

"Well you did ask."

"Wait a minute", Angel said eventually, beginning to work something out. "Are you trying to tell me that now Wesley is going to end up like Harris with some kind of magic thing going on? I don't think so. I mean, what about us? We were all there, and we're fine."

Lorne shrugged. "I don't know, I don't have all the answers. I've already broken a rule or two by saying some of this anyway. All I do know is that this book seems to describe exactly what happened out there, and that has to be more than a coincidence."

Angel couldn't quite believe this. Lorne handed him the book so that he could see for himself. Gunn just stared at the floor, Cordelia looked a bit confused and Wesley, well, he really didn't care.

"There's got to be more to this that we're just not seeing", Angel mused, resuming his pacing of the room.

"Oh", put in Cordelia, suddenly remembering something, "What about the flying vase? Does it say anything about that?"

Angel shook his head and carried on pacing, letting the book hang down by his side. "This just doesn't make any sense."

The room went quiet again, everyone lost in their own thoughts and waiting for inspiration. Everyone except Wesley, that is. He had sat completely still throughout the whole conversation, not saying a word to anyone. In fact, he had barely even been listening to a word that was said. He had been waiting for the ache to subside so that he could concentrate on sifting through the clouds in his mind. He wanted to contribute something, anything, which would be of use, but he couldn't even recall everything that had actually happened.

He remembered the flash of light, and something to do with... no, that wasn't real. OK, focus. He'd been afraid, very afraid. Terrified even. But what of? Maybe it was just the pain. Someone had tried to hurt him, a huge and looming dark shape attacking him and trying to put him back in the dark... Wait a minute. You're rambling now. Get a grip. Why was this so difficult? It just hurt to think so much. There's that annoying noise again. Where was it coming from and why wouldn't it stop?

"Wesley. Wesley!"

Oh, right. That's what it is.

"You know, he really does not look good. At all. Are you sure we can't do anything about this?" Gunn was getting worried now, and that just wasn't cool. He could see that Angel was desperately looking to Wesley for answers, but they couldn't get through to him. Again. It was like he couldn't hear them or something. He went over to where Angel was knelt to lend him a hand.

"Give me a try", he said, flapping his hand in Angel's direction. He did the same to Cordelia and Lorne when he felt them hovering around behind him and breathing down his neck. "Come on you guys, give the man some space."

They both took a step back and Cordelia tried to distract herself by picking at a piece of loose wallpaper. Angel refused to move any further away, insisting on being stubborn and possessive. 

Gunn didn't have the energy to argue with him, so he just got on with what he was trying to do. Wesley had swung his legs over the side of the bed and was slumped over with his head down and hands clasped behind his neck. He was leaning on his knees and staring rigidly at the rug Gunn was crouching on, not even seeming to notice that he was there.

"Hey, Wes, what ya thinkin'?"

Nothing. He lowered his own head, trying to get a look at his eyes.

"Come on, boy, look at me will ya?"

Wesley blinked. He looked up at Gunn, a confused expression on his face. Gunn smiled back at him, hoping that maybe this time he would stay in the land of the living. Long enough to get some answers, anyway.

"There you go. Did you hear what Angel said before? We've read some more of the book and it says that you should have felt some kind of weird prickly sensation or something if the spell worked. Did you feel that, Wes? We need to know."

"Yes. No. I don't... I don't know. I can't remember. It just hurt." He closed his eyes and tried to fold up again, but Gunn physically stopped him.

"Stop it. Don't you start going all withdrawn on me. If you start that rocking backwards and forwards stuff like a crazy person, then I'm just gonna leave you here on your own. I'm not putting up with any of that." He tried to sound authoritative, thinking that it could shake him out of the daze he had sunk into. It seemed to work, and Wesley made the effort to sit up straighter.

"OK, that's better. Look, we need your help if we're going to find anything out about this. Tell us where to look."

Wesley nodded silently, trying not to flinch at the intense ache it produced. He motioned for a pen and some paper and hastily scribbled down some titles in a barely legible scrawl. Gunn took the list and read it through, giving it to Angel when he had finished. He recognised some of the titles from the research they had already done before performing this spell, and he realised that Wesley probably already knew more about this than he would say. He looked scared.

"Alright, we're going to go downstairs and take a look into this. You just, I dunno, try and get some sleep or something, OK?"

Not getting a response, Gunn stood up and sighed. He looked at the others and they came a bit closer, waiting to hear what they should do next. Cordelia looked weary and drawn, dark circles developing around her eyes. She was near to dropping any second.

Angel had noticed it too. He put a hand on her shoulder to reassure her.

"We're going to figure this out, don't worry. You don't have to come down if you don't want to."

She gave him a weak smile. "It's not that I don't want to, it's just, I feel kinda tired. I don't think I can take any more reading today, my eyes will fall out. I'll just stay here and make sure no more spooky stuff happens."

* * *

So, here they were, again. If Gunn never saw another dusty old book again, it would be too soon. He didn't know how Wesley could stand it. Why would anyone want to do this for fun? Oh well, there was no use in complaining. It had to be done.

Lorne had offered to stay and help out and they had gladly accepted. An extra and fresh pair of eyes couldn't hurt. Besides, Gunn kind of liked having the big green demon around, it was amusing to watch him really getting on Angel's nerves with his little anecdotes. 

Right now, they were looking up 'gifts' in some of the research material that Wesley had suggested. Meanwhile, Angel was on the phone, trying to get hold of their client.

Angel slammed down the handset. "Lying little creep!"

"What's the matter now?" asked Lorne, edging round a little closer to Gunn when Angel came storming out of the office.

"He made up everything. The company, his phone numbers, probably even his name. I've rung around half the demon businesses in LA and none of them have ever heard of him. He doesn't exist."

"I bet you're kinda wishing you had checked that before now, huh?"

Both Angel and Gunn whirled round to glare at Lorne, and he immediately stuck his hands in the air in apology.

"I guess we were a little blinded by the whole money thing", Gunn admitted. It was too late to regret that now. It least it proved that there was more to this than just accidental chance. This demon guy, he had something to do with it. If they could just find him, maybe they would get some answers.

* * *

Having tried hard to make conversation and keep Wesley alert, Cordelia had given up when her own eyelids had started to droop, and let him zone out on the bed. 

She'd fallen asleep not long after, resting her head on the covers and enjoying the chance to forget all her troubles. It hadn't taken long for something to wake her up, however, and now she was blinking away the blur and flicking the hair out of her face. Wesley had moved and disturbed her by accident, and was now looking down on her with concern.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, you look like you need the rest."

Cordelia didn't know what to say at first, there were just so many things wrong with that sentence. She gave him an amused frown and started to laugh.

"Wesley, what are you talking about? I'm here to look after you." There were so many things she wanted to ask, like 'how come you're being so normal all of a sudden', but she didn't get the chance to make a sound. That familiar feeling of dread swept over her and took away her breath.

"Cordelia?"

It hit her. Flashing images and swirls of colours, overwhelming in their intensity. She reeled backwards and prepared herself for a fall... that didn't come. That was weird, it didn't feel like anyone had caught her either, she was just... floating. There was no time for her to worry about that now; the vision stabbing across her eyes was demanding her attention. She felt the pain and terror of the victims and shrieked with them, pummelling her hands into the sides of her head.

When it finally stopped, she felt herself sway with dizziness, but this time someone was there to help her. The agonising migraine took hold and she let herself be led to a very welcoming chair. She opened her eyes and squinted up to see Wesley fussing around, trying to find the painkillers that he knew were around there somewhere. She accepted the glass of water he handed her and waited a second for the worst to subside. She drew a deep breath and collected her wits.

"Wesley, sit down, I'm alright. You're making my head spin."

He crouched down in front of her, a haunted look in his eyes. It was unsettling. He'd never looked that worked up over a vision before. What was the matter, was she sprouting horns or something? Forgetting about the vision for a moment, she felt the need to check that Wesley was as back-to-normal as he had seemed at first. After all, you don't just hop out of bed with a grin and a skip after an episode like that, do you?

"How are you feeling... do you remember what happened?"

"I don't know how to explain it, I just woke up and... I feel fine. Everything's gone. I just hope I didn't..." He stopped and looked as though he regretted saying that.

"What?" Cordelia asked, feeling slightly anxious now.

He wouldn't say anything. They held each other's gaze for a while, the room filling with tension. Cordelia was going to say something, but she was interrupted when Angel walked into the room, his nose in a book.

"I think I've found something that might -" He looked up and cut off his sentence when he saw that the situation had changed quite dramatically since his last visit to the room.

"Wesley, you're -"

"Cordelia had a vision", Wesley blurted out, as if to avert the attention. Cordelia narrowed her eyes slightly in suspicion, knowing full well that something was going on here.

"Really?" Angel asked, dropping his book and rushing to her side. "Why didn't you tell me? Is it serious?"

She nodded to him slowly, not wanting to have to tell him the bad news. As urgent as this was, she didn't want to have to reveal the truth to either of them. It was going to cut, deep.

She steeled herself for the moment.

"It's not good..." It never is, but this time it was worse than bad. It was cruel.

"It's the demon. He's got his powers now... and he's hurting people."

PART 5.

Angel could smell the fear.

He and Gunn had driven through the streets of downtown LA to the area Cordelia had directed them to. She hadn't given them a precise location, saying that the vision was vague and that she couldn't be sure. All they knew was that something was happening in an alley behind a club. A club with a big, blue neon sign. Well that was helpful.

Despite the odds being against them, they had found the alley almost straight away. Dusk was falling, so they had kept the soft top of Angel's convertible down, allowing him to take full advantage of his vampire senses. Having coasted past several clubs, he had picked up a scent from quite a distance away, leading them straight to a place called 'The Ocean Inn'.

Whatever was happening, it involved more than one person. The fear was flowing out of this place in waves. Gunn pulled up at the entrance to the alleyway, (having insisted on driving), and Angel leapt over the side in one, smooth movement.

He could hear muffled screams drifting up from the shadows at the far end, but it was too gloomy to discern any shapes past the dumpsters and the general classic LA mist. He cautiously stepped along in 'stalk mode', avoiding the puddles and clusters of discarded soda cups and making as little noise as possible. He wanted to catch this demon off guard, if he could, having heeded Cordelia's warning about the guy's magical ability.

He was getting close. Blood had been spilled, and its potent aroma was intoxicating. Emerging from the side of a pile of wooden crates, Angel assessed the situation before him.

To his surprise, he found that 'Mr. Harris', if that was his name, was engaged in a brawl with a gang of considerably rough looking guys, and certainly not the 'hopeless victims' he was expecting. It looked as though they had been quite capable of handling themselves, judging from the various crude weapons being wielded by some of the men, and by those who were currently littering the floor in a now not so healthy state. 

Whatever may have taken place before now, the tables had obviously turned. The remaining few men who had been unable to escape were now cowering against a wall, begging for mercy. Some of their more unfortunate comrades had been reduced to nothing but smouldering heaps in front of them, and they were now terrified for their lives.

The demon, meanwhile, was standing, quite calmly, with his back to Angel. He hadn't seemed to have noticed him approach. Angel readied himself for a lunge forward, when he heard hurried footsteps behind him. Not wanting to be crept up on, he turned to see Gunn coming to join him, axe in hand. Unfortunately for them both, the demon had noticed him too.

"Damn it, Gunn!" Angel cursed, just as the demon sprang to the side, landing on top of the crates. So much for the element of surprise. 

Not letting Angel's displeasure faze him, Gunn whirled to face the demon, even if he was unreachable above them.

Angel stooped to pick up a plank of wood that was lying nearby, and called out to the group of men.

"You, get out of here! Go!" They didn't need to be told twice.

This only seemed to anger Harris further, and his pink eyes burned with fury. He hissed at Angel and ripped a particularly sharp splinter of wood from his platform.

Angel wasn't going to give him the chance to use it. He put on his game face and followed him up, bringing down his own club down on him as he did so.

The demon anticipated the move, and dodged Angel's attempt, letting him slam himself into the wall. 

Gunn, being unable to do anything from where he was and fearing what was to come, buried his axe into the side of the stack, trying to topple it over. Distracted from his main target for the moment, the demon glared down at Gunn and brought his hands to his chest. He pushed them away suddenly in Gunn's direction, producing a ball of fire that flew towards his head.

Ducking only just in time, Gunn rolled to the side and shouted a warning to Angel, being careful not to impale himself with his own axe.

Angel was already preparing himself for his next move. He dived for Harris' legs with such force that both of them fell head first from the stack, landing in a sprawl on the cold floor. Struggling through the pain, Angel quickly grappled his way on top of the demon and delivered several sound punches to his face. Harris fought back, however, and grasped Angel's neck, pushing him away and flipping him over.

The demon reached over for his improvised stake and raised it above his head, getting ready to - * clunk *

The base of Gunn's axe sent Harris spinning to the side, falling into a crumpled and unmoving heap against the wall.

Gunn extended a hand to Angel, pulling him upright again.

"Thanks", Angel said reluctantly, "But next time, when I tell you to wait in the car, I mean it."

Gunn grinned and gave him a shrug; clearly not at all sorry he had decided to come along anyway. If there was a good fight to be had, he would be the last one to miss it.

He turned and looked at their albino friend. "What are we gonna do with him? Want me to chop him?" 

"No", Angel said before Gunn got too carried away, " I want to get some answers out of him first. We'd better get him out of here before someone spots us."

"But where're we gonna go? We can't take him back to the hotel, Cordy would freak, not to mention Wesley..."

"No, it wouldn't be safe. Besides, I've got a better idea."

* * *

 

Angel's sudden appearance into the room had broken the mood, and having to explain the details of her vision had allowed Wesley time to build up some barriers. Cordelia was worried that now it would be too hard to try and get him to talk.

When Angel and Gunn had left to pursue their creepy little client, she had tried to break the ice by offering to order some food. If she could just soften him up a little bit first, it might be easier to get him to open up.

Her plan wasn't working very well.

She'd had Wesley's favourite Chinese restaurant deliver some food, and they were sat at the reception counter eating it. Well, she was, anyway.

Wesley was picking around at it with his chopsticks, staring blankly into the take-away box. He'd not said a word to her since the others had left, and hadn't even acknowledged Lorne when he had said his goodbyes. This just wasn't like him. Sure, he was a big thinker, but brooding was strictly Angel's department.

"What's the matter, don't you like it? I thought you always had chow mien."

He looked up and smiled at her weakly. "I'm just not that hungry."

How could he not be hungry after all this time eating nothing? She was ravenous, not to mention dying of exhaustion and in desperate need of a shower. She wanted so much to go home and change her clothes. She was willing to bet that Wesley wanted to go home too, but they couldn't risk leaving the hotel until all this was cleared up. They still had no idea what the spell had done, or why the demon had tricked them into casting it in the first place. 

They had to sit tight. As difficult as it was, she would just have to try to bring a little normality back to the place by herself. Here goes.

"Wesley, what was it that you were going to say earlier, you know, before Angel came barging in? The curiosity is killing me!" A bit of light humour, that ought to work.

He fidgeted on his seat and avoided looking her in the eyes.

"Nothing."

Pfft. Yeah, right.

"It's just, well, you've been really quiet since this happened, and... I know there's something wrong. You need to talk to me, Wesley, I want to help."

He finally stopped fiddling with his food and leant back, taking a deep breath. He would have to say something eventually. He'd prepared himself for this moment. Might as well get it over and done with now, but where to start?

"It was so strange, what happened. I've never been in such a lonely place. Before I woke up earlier, it was like I wasn't real, I didn't exist. I couldn't concentrate on anything, I couldn't think. But I had these dreams; at least, that's what I think they were. They were so vivid, they felt real. They brought up some bad memories that I thought I had forgotten. I thought I had put my past behind me, but I was wrong. I'd just repressed it. And now, I feel... different. Like someone else. Something's changed in me and I don't know what it is. And if Lorne is right, if the spell has done something to me, I'm afraid of... of what I might do..."

"Wesley..."

"I didn't mean to hurt you before, I'm sorry, I couldn't help it..." That frantic look was back. Cordelia could see it in his eyes and it scared her.

"What are you talking about? You didn't do anything to me, you've been too sick to even move! I think you must be getting mixed up with something you dreamt. I'm fine!"

"But the vase, I think that was me."

Whoa. She wasn't ready for that one. Come to think of it, why hadn't it occurred to her before? That weird sensation she had felt, it was the same energy she had felt from the spell. This was just too unbelievable, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"OK, first of all, the vase never even touched me, and second of all, WOW! Wesley, don't you see what this means? You totally have some kind of magical mojo thing going on! This is great!"

"It is?"

"Well sure! Think of all the amazing things you could do, I mean, how handy is this gonna be! I can't believe you were worrying about this the whole time. Why didn't you say something if you thought you knew what had happened? The whole time, we thought it had messed up your head or something. We were really worried. Now it just turns out that, not only are you OK and the spell worked as it should have, but you have a power!"

"I just don't know if I'm cut out for this, I mean, what if I can't control it? Like when you had the vision -"

"That was you? Wow, that's really cool."

"Yes but, I didn't choose for it to happen, it just sort of did."

"Oh, I see. So you were actually hoping for me to crash to the ground, huh?"

"You know what I mean. I'm trying to say that I don't think this is a good idea. We've got to try and find a way to reverse the spell."

Cordelia couldn't help her shocked expression. It was just like Wesley, trying to be the responsible one. She knew that, if it were up to her, she would be loath to pass up an opportunity like this. Besides, after what happened last time, she wasn't so sure that more spell casting should be attempted too soon.

"Don't you at least think that we should research a bit more into this?" she asked hopefully, "I mean, think of the potential."

He relented in his serious look a little and sighed.

"I suppose you're right. It would be foolish to rush into anything."

Cordelia couldn't help a little smirk. How could he resist a chance to look through his beloved books? He would always trust them above his own judgement, something that Cordelia often found a little sad.

"Besides", she chirped, trying to lighten the mood, "I want to see Angel's face when we tell him. Hey, could you move some of that stuff over there? Come on, give it a try!"

"Cordelia."

"OK, OK, sorry." 

She pushed her empty boxes to one side and pointed to Wesley's with her fork.

"You gonna eat that?"

He shook his head and passed it to her. He couldn't quite believe how well she had just taken that. It had worried the hell out of him. Her confidence inspired him a little, and he tried to relax a bit more. At least now everything was out in the open. A problem shared is a problem halved, isn't that what they say? If only Angel and Gunn would get back now, they might have some more answers, and they could really get stuck into some research. As much as he wanted to know, he didn't feel quite up to doing anything right now. He was still a little tired, and his depressed mood wasn't going to go away just yet.

He drifted back into a daydream, unaware that Cordelia was silently congratulating herself for finally getting him on his way back to normal. Or at least, as normal as you could be after finding out you could move objects around with magic.

Happily finishing off Wesley's portion, Cordelia turned around on her seat when she heard the front doors opening, ready to greet Angel and Gunn with the news. She was disappointed, however, to find that the person responsible for the noise was a stranger.

Wiping sauce from her chin and rising from her seat, she took it upon herself to address the new client, seeing as Wesley seemed to be off again in a world of his own.

"Hi, this is Angel Investigations. Can I help you?"

The man approached her and smiled, putting his hand into his inside jacket pocket.

"You must be Cordelia, right?" he asked, a strange air of confidence in his voice.

Cordelia didn't like the way he sounded. "Yes, that's right, how did you - oh my God..."

Wesley jerked his head up at Cordelia's comment to see the man draw a small firearm out of his coat. Cordelia had stopped dead in the middle of the lobby, staring at the man in horror. Before Wesley could move or say a word, the man raised his gun and fired in her direction.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion from that point on. He jumped to his feet and shouted 'No!' as a small dart hit Cordelia in the neck. She quickly moved her hand up and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor. She swayed and lurched herself back towards the counter, just managing to catch hold of the edge before she collapsed to the floor.

Wesley had run out from behind it and threw himself at the man, sending them both skidding across the floor. He tried to pull the gun out of the man's hands, but his grip was too strong and he was fighting hard to get up. He head butted Wesley, stunning him for a second, and got to his feet fast. He held the weapon at Wesley and pulled the trigger, sending a second dart flying out. Only this time, it didn't hit anything. 

It floated in mid air, just inches away from Wesley's skin, and the man stared at it, more in annoyance than shock, which is what Wesley would have expected. Taking the opportunity, Wesley sprang to his feet and lunged at the man again, the dart dropping to the floor behind him.

The man saw him coming but wasn't ready for the attack, and Wesley's punch sent him reeling back to where he had come from. 

Wesley didn't have time to think, and catching a glimpse of Cordelia's unconscious form in the corner of his eye only heightened his anger. Before he knew what was happening, a large book that was resting on the lobby sofa hurled itself at the man's head, hitting him hard. Wesley halted abruptly, realising what he had done.

The man took advantage of Wesley's pause, lifting the gun, and, this time, succeeding in hitting his prey. The man got up and walked over to where Wesley was standing, a stunned look on his face. Wesley just had time to see the man's mocking grin as he sank to the ground, unable to fight the darkness creeping over him again. 

PART 6.

 

Angel and Gunn had managed, somehow, to carry the demon back to the car without being seen. It was a busy night, so they were lucky that no more of the nightclub's patrons had decided to go for a breath of fresh air. Angel was right, they needed to take him somewhere more isolated, and Gunn trusted him when he said he knew where they could go.

Under Angel's instructions, Gunn had driven back towards the hotel, but stopped at a deserted street corner where Angel knew there was a particular entrance to the sewers. Together, they had dragged Harris down there and Angel had proceeded to bind his hands and secure him to some kind of improvised pulley. The demon now hung, still unconscious, neck deep in water over a sewer well.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" Gunn asked Angel with half-amused suspicion.

"Oh, no, nothing like this... exactly..." Angel tailed off and scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably, "I just thought that, maybe, we should use water to our advantage, since this guy is all with the fire balls, you know..."

"Yeah, whatever", Gunn replied with a knowing smile.

Angel only had to endure the following awkward silence for a few more seconds before their client began to show signs of life. He groaned and tried to move, wriggling around like a worm on a hook when he realised that he was tied up. Seeing Angel and Gunn approach him from the darkness and stand over him, arms crossed, he began to visibly quake with fear, sobs of terror betraying his once fierce appearance.

Gunn gave Angel a look that he returned, revealing that neither of them had expected this kind of reaction. Hissing and cursing, maybe, but absolute submission? This was going to be too easy.

Angel crouched down and met the demon face to face, shaking his head slowly and tutting. The demon refused to look him in the eyes and became even more frightened.

"Oh God, oh God, you're going to kill me aren't you? Oh God, please, I didn't mean... don't hurt me! Please, let me go!"

Angel held his ground and only hardened his steely glare. With a cold edge to his voice that unnerved even Gunn, he began his questioning with the precision of a practiced artist. 

"What's wrong? Scared now that you can't use your fancy fire powers on us? Or maybe you think you can stall us by putting on the innocent act. What happened, Harris? Did you think you could trick us into helping you out and then get away with something like this? Did the power go to your head? You thought you were untouchable, that you could do anything you wanted, maybe give some people what was coming to them, is that how it was?"

Harris continued to sob and spluttered when he spoke. "No, no! You've got it all wrong! It wasn't like that at all...what have I done?"

"I'll tell you what happened, Harris, you attacked those people in the alley and nearly killed them all because you're a lying, conniving murderer..."

"NO! You have to understand, they attacked me first! I was on my way home when they cornered me and tried to kill me... they knew I wasn't human and they wanted me dead... I tried to explain to them, but they wouldn't listen. Before I could stop myself I... the power... it overwhelmed me and I couldn't - I didn't mean to kill anybody, but I was just so angry..."

"Oh, right, so when you saw us you thought you'd give us a good bashing, just to let us know how happy you were to see us there", Gunn chipped in, not believing this story for a second.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, it's the truth! Heightened emotion allows for easier access to the energies for the untrained user, and in extreme circumstances, the temptation of all that power, it just, it takes over and you can't make it stop. All the anger and the fear, it just builds up until you can't take it any more... I didn't mean for any of this to happen, you have to believe me. They forced me to do it, but I didn't want for your friend to get hurt -"

Angel lunged forward and grabbed the demon by the neck, surprising both him and Gunn with his speed.

"Just what do you know about it?" Angel spat, his voice dripping with venom.

Harris' voice seemed to raise an octave or two higher as he pleaded for Angel's mercy, occasionally glancing at Gunn in the hope of intervention. Gunn wasn't about to let himself be fooled, but something was niggling at him in the back of his mind, telling him that something wasn't right. The thought disturbed him, and he began to have doubts about Angel's methods in this particular situation.

He studied the demon more closely and noticed the way in which he kept closing eyes and turning away, desperate to pretend that none of this was happening. Angel continued to shake him and shout at him, demanding answers, but the demon didn't dare to speak another word. It was like he was trying to contain himself, shaking with the effort rather than simply trembling with fear.

"Angel..." Gunn warned, stepping up behind him and tapping his shoulder. Angel drew back a little bit when he realised what Gunn was referring to, having previously been too blinded by hatred to consider the effect he was having. The demon wasn't coping too well with this treatment, so they would need a change of tactics.

Harris managed to calm himself down and looked up at them, risking a few words of advice for the sake of some understanding.

"Look, I really don' t want to hurt you, but I won't be able to help myself if you keep this up, please, I'll talk, just don't... don't hurt me..."

"Fine", Angel said, getting closer again, "I'm up for that, what do you think, Gunn? Now, why don't you try telling us what exactly it is that you did mean to do, instead of insisting that none of this was your fault, hmm?"

Harris took a deep breath and tried to put the cold out of his mind. 

"OK, it's like this. I wasn't lying when I told you about my family history, all that was true. It's just, I'm not the head of the family, or at least, I wasn't, my brother is. He never had any children, so I was next in line to inherit the business and the powers when he died. I never thought I'd have to take up the position, I mean, my kind live for centuries, and there was plenty of time left for him to start a family. Anyway, he didn't die of old age. He got mixed up with this law firm, Wolfram and Hart, have you heard of them?"

Angel and Gunn gave each other that look again. This was not going to be good. If they were involved, there was no doubt about why any of this had happened. They had always wanted to get to Angel, by whatever means, and this kind of thing was right up their street.

"I guess you have. Well, when my brother refused to use his powers to help them, they had him killed, knowing that the gift would pass to me. They knew that I wasn't exactly on speaking terms with him when he died, so they thought they could persuade me that they had done me this big favour and that I owed them or something. I never asked for it to happen, I wasn't ready, and I didn't like the idea of mixing with the likes of them, so I freaked out. I told them I would never work for the people who had murdered my brother, and that they'd have to kill me."

"Ha!" Angel laughed, "That doesn't sound very much like you! You were begging us for your life not two minutes ago."

The demon frowned and thrust out his chin indignantly. "You must know very little of family honour then, Mr. Angel. I may be a coward, but I would never dishonour my late brother's good name."

Angel looked as though he was going to say something at this, but decided against it. "It's just Angel", he said instead.

"Anyway, they didn't much appreciate being refused again, so they took away my powers and told me that they would kill every single person my brother's company had protected if I didn't help them do something. I didn't want to, but they said that it would bring back the gift and I would be free to carry on helping those people. With so many lives at stake, I had no choice."

"OK, so they sent you to us to have the spell performed, but why? They must have told you something. Well?" Angel's more relaxed tone must have reassured Harris somewhat, as now he was quite prepared to withhold information.

"I can't tell you, they'll kill me if they find out, or worse. You can't hide from them, they find you."

"And what do you think I'm going to do to you if you don't tell us everything we want to know?" Angel asked menacingly. The 'subtle' hint seemed to encourage to demon to speak, his eyes widening with fear.

"OK, OK, but you have to help me..."

"I wouldn't push your luck if I were you", Gunn advised, seeing the scowl on Angel's face.

"Look, all I know is that they wanted to get to someone in your group. They said they had files on all of you, and that they'd recently acquired some information from an unusual source about one of you that they could use to their advantage. All they told me to do was to make sure that you were all present when the spell took place. I think that they must have known it would affect your friend, to what end I can only imagine. They said it wouldn't harm him permanently, so I figured it was a fair trade off for the lives of many others. They never told me their purpose in all this; they said I didn't need to know. I was just to make myself scarce after it happened, and not tell you what was going on. Looks like I failed in that respect."

Angel took a while to consider everything that had been said, and seemed satisfied when he found no inconsistencies in the story. He stood to face Gunn, ready to discuss their next move, when something occurred to him. If he had any colour to begin with, it would have drained from his face. 

"What?" Gunn asked, seeing the grim look in Angel's eyes.

"Cordy and Wes, we left them alone in the hotel."

Gunn understood. "We'd better get back. What are we going to do with him?"

Angel approached Harris again and put his hand on the rope that was suspending him in the water.

"How do I know that when I pull you out of here, you're not going to set us alight?"

The demon looked slightly worried at the distrust, knowing that he was now in a very bad position.

"I told you, I was never prepared for this inheritance. My brother was trained in self-control from an early age, ready for when he came in possession of the gift. I have no such control, so I can't use my power at will, only under extreme emotional circumstances, and even then, it's unpredictable. I know I don't deserve your understanding, but that's all I can tell you to make you trust me. I don't have any other proof, just my word that I won't harm you..."

Angel looked him in the eyes. He seemed sincere, but he couldn't be sure. He wanted to take Harris along with them to the hotel. He seemed to know a lot more about this situation than they did, and he may be able to help them. Still, could he be trusted? Whatever they did, they would have to be very careful. He leaned forward until he was almost touching the demon's white skin, and whispered harshly in his ear.

"If I find you have been lying, or bending the truth, or withholding so much as a word of information about any of this, I will personally see to it that you do not live out your otherwise long years, got it?"

The demon swallowed hard and nodded.

* * *

Angel had hauled the demon out of the well, but left his hands tied. He was now sitting, wet and cold, in the back seat of Angel's car with Gunn sitting next to him, a crossbow aimed at his head. Gunn had been sure to put down some old rugs Angel kept in the trunk for lighter days after he had been instructed not to let the demon drip all over the leather. Some things never change.

Angel was driving them back to the hotel as quickly as he could, despite the heavy traffic. It gave Gunn the chance to ask some questions of his own.

"So", he began, shattering the silence, "How come you can do the pretty fireworks when your brother did shields and stuff?"

"It depends on the individual as to what power they are prone to. I was always something of a black sheep in my family and a bit of a loner. Us Neshtu demons are not particularly strong, so when I came across certain dangerous situations in my wanderings, I always wished that there was more I could do, you know, bring a little justice for the victims. I wasn't like my brother, I didn't want to just protect people, I wanted to punish the ones who caused all the problems in the first place."

"So that's why some of those guys in that alley ended up as piles of ash then, huh?"

The demon looked away and hung his head in guilt.

"I didn't mean for that to happen. It's easy to get...carried away."

Gunn decided it was best to drop that line of conversation and change the subject.

"What I still don't get is, why Wes? Like Angel said before, we were all there, so why aren't we all super heroes now? That would be cool..."

"It doesn't work like that. I'm not to familiar with the way that human society functions when it comes to the mystical forces, but, as I understand it, there are a certain few individuals born to each generation worldwide who posses the gift. It's usually identified at an early age, and potentials are often taken for integration into whichever particular magic council discovers them first. I don't know how, but your friend must have been denied use of the energies a long time ago. He probably didn't even know about it. Wolfram and Hart seem to though."

This worried Gunn more than he would say. If the evil law firm could find this out about a person, he wondered what else they knew, about all of them. And as for their purpose, it couldn't be good. He knew of the extent they would go to if it meant turning Angel dark. He had witnessed it first hand during the Darla saga. He was not keen to go through that again, and he prayed that it wouldn't come to that. 

They finally pulled up in front of the Hyperion, and Gunn pushed the demon out of the car, using the end of his crossbow as a guide. He just hoped that Cordelia and Wesley wouldn't object too much to having the guy who has caused all the trouble join them in the hotel, especially after what Cordelia had seen in her vision. Angel led the way and held the door open for them both before walking in himself. 

"Cordelia?" He called as he came down the steps. He was about to call again when he noticed the strange scent hanging in the lobby. It didn't smell like anyone he knew, but someone had definitely been in here, and they'd been active. As much as he didn't like to admit it, Angel had a nose for sweat.

He walked around the centre sofa that had been moved during their last research sessions and stopped dead at what he saw. Cordelia's huddled form had come into view, slumped against the side of the reception counter. He ran to her side in panic, calling for Gunn's help.

He moved her into a sitting position and shook her lightly, repeating her name. He could hear her heartbeat and her breathing, so he knew she was alive, thankfully. Gunn joined him, a small dart in the palm of his hand.

"I found this on the floor over there", he said, the concern evident in his voice. He reached behind him and picked up another that was lying just inches from Cordelia's feet. Finding a small mark on her neck, Angel realised what had happened.

"Try some water", came a suggestion from the lobby doors. Harris had stayed where he was, unwilling to be on the receiving end of an angry vampire again.

Gunn got up to fetch some, deciding it was as good an idea as any. He handed the glass of cold water he had filled to Angel, and he in return splashed it on Cordelia's face, hoping for the best. She moved slightly and spluttered, trying to escape Angel's grip. He held her fast and called her name again.

"Cordelia, wake up, come on..."

She moaned and lolled her head, unwilling to shake off the pleasant sleepy feeling. 

"Go away, Angel, I'm not ready to get up yet", she slurred, not really realising where she was. Angel shook her again until she opened her eyes.

"Cordelia, you need to tell us what happened here, where's Wesley?"

She looked at him for a moment slightly confused. Then she remembered. Her eyes widened and she grasped Angel's arms.

"Oh, God, the guy, he...there was a man with a gun, he shot me! I couldn't stop him, he was too fast... but Wesley, he tried to fight him off, I think, I don't really remember, everything went black. He must have got him too..."

Gunn came back from his patrol of the hotel. "He's not here, I looked everywhere, but there's nothing."

Cordelia gave Angel a worried look, still not quite believing that this had happened.

"But who would do this?" she asked, "Who would want to take Wesley?"

"Wolfram and Hart", Angel answered.

PART 7.

There is nothing to be afraid of. Everything will be just fine as long as you just do as you are told and do better this time. You can do it. Try harder and concentrate. 

He quietened the little voices in his head and focused on the task in hand.

Father had said that these people needed their help. They didn't realise it yet, but they would thank them eventually. Besides, the Council had assigned this task to be done, and they were never wrong. It was for their own good, and they would make sure it was done properly.

Don't be scared. They can't get you.

His father had required his assistance in performing this particular duty, and he had said that the experience would be useful for his training, maybe teach him a thing or two. He hadn't objected. After all, he had helped his father do lots of things like this and had enjoyed the chance to learn. He enjoyed the time spent at his father's side, knowing that he was making a difference, possibly even getting the chance to impress him. That's all he wanted.

It's just that this wasn't something he had done before. Sure, he had seen demons. Father had exposed him from an early age, well, earlier than this, anyway, so he wasn't shocked by what he saw. It's just that, before now, he had felt much more protected. He had never come face to face with one before, and these ones were angry, and frightening.

Other children always got told that there were no such things as monsters, didn't they? They were afraid at night. Afraid of the dark and the things that 'didn't exist'. But he knew they were real. He had a reason to be afraid of the dark, but he wasn't allowed to be. Despite all of his father's good intentions, he just couldn't get over his fear of these...creatures. One more reason why he was a disappointment, a failure. Young men shouldn't be scared, not like little girls, they're strong and brave, they don't need sheltering. 

He puffed out his chest and set his determination. If he could hide his fear and do this right, then father wouldn't need to remind him of his shortcomings, he'd prove that he could do something on his own.

OK, get ready. You've done this hundreds of times. This spell's a new one, but you know what to do.

"Boy, have you got what I gave you?"

The monsters snarled. Just ignore them.

He nodded.

"Do you think you can remember the sequence and do this right this time, or do I even have to do that as well? Use a bit of common sense, boy, for God's sake. If you'd learn to take your responsibility a bit more seriously, then I wouldn't have to say anything to you, would I?"

"No, father."

"Always got your head in the clouds, that's your problem. Now pay attention this time."

He listened as father started the spell. He felt proud when he realised he could understand some of the words. He was a quick learner when it came to languages, and he was good at it. At least he was good at something.

The beasts are snarling at him again, and thrashing around this time. What if they broke free and attacked him? What would he do? He was frightening himself again. Oh God, pay attention! You nearly missed your part! OK, concentrate. This powder first, then this one. Got it. 

They looked like they new what was going to happen to them. They knew their powers were being taken away, and it was going to hurt. He felt sorry for them. Was that wrong? No, they deserved it. They were filthy beasts, and this was going to cleanse them, bring back their humanity and banish the evil magic. Father was right. They'd thank them for it in the end.

Here comes the scary bit. All those flashing lights and loud noises. Cover your ears. 

He tried, really he did, but he was still terrified. He couldn't help it, he was only small. And for some reason, something was hurting him. He couldn't see anything, but there was definitely something bad happening. Oh, no. He knew this feeling. Light-headed and dizzy, he was going to faint. Not again. It hurt so much and he was really scared, but father would punish him severely if he did anything so pathetic as collapse. 

It's no good. 

Well, looks like it's the cupboard again for you...

* * *

Cordelia still couldn't quite fathom what exactly had happened and why. Her mind was still a little groggy, and she couldn't stand on her own. Angel had lifted her onto the couch and was threatening to crush her to death with all of his over-attentive fussing and gestures. Maybe it was because she was being so unresponsive that he felt the need to mother her. He hadn't realised that she was just too tired to care at the moment. Still, she was quietly enjoying the attention, even if Angel's concerned but friendly voice was irritating her slightly.

When he finally shuffled away to find her something to drink, she took the opportunity to glance around the lobby she thought she had seen for the last time. It worried her all over again when she discovered, for the second time, that Gunn was right, Wesley wasn't here. Her drug-induced state had allowed her a pleasant lapse of memory for a few minutes, but now things were returning to her, as sharp and clear as anything. She was beginning to ache a little bit now too, and she recalled colliding with the counter on her way down to the floor. That was gonna bruise.

After her vision had finally returned to normal, she noticed someone sitting on the steps near the doors and struggled to shift herself up onto her elbows to get a better look. She frowned in annoyance when she realised who it was.

"What is he doing here?" she asked Gunn in an offended tone as he appeared from the basement, a whole arsenal in his arms.

Gunn glanced over to the demon as Harris perked his head up, obviously recognising the hostility in Cordelia's voice as being directed at him.

"Don't worry, Cordelia, he's been taken care of. We kicked his ass good and now, he's gonna help us, aint't that right?"

The demon nodded in resignation and returned to his vigil of the second step.

"We tied his hands, so, he won't be hurting us any time soon. Besides, we had a little talk. Apparently, this has all been some big scheme by Wolfram and Hart and he was an unwilling player in the game. Or so he says. By the way, did I mention that we totally kicked his ass?"

"Yes", Cordelia replied, humouring the big smile on Gunn's face. "But what about my vision? Don't the Powers That Be have a say in this? I kinda got the idea that they wanted something...you know...done..."

"Don't sweat it, Cordy. If we get time after this is done and we don't all end up as corpses, I'll explain it to you. Besides, he knows what Angel will do to him if he tries anything, don't ya albino boy?"

Again, the demon nodded, seeming quite willing to accept his fate and absolute obedience to the crew.

His reaction impressed Cordelia. Angel and Gunn must have done one hell of a number on this guy to make him act like that. She had seen what he was capable of, and it had scared her.

"Speaking of Angel, where did he go?" She felt a bit upset that he hadn't returned to pamper her some more. As if on cue, he emerged from the office with yet another book.

"Sorry, I got a bit side tracked. Before we went out on the vision mission I had found something in this book. Good news, Harris, it confirms what you said in the car back there. You score another mark on the trust-o-meter."

"What? What is it?" Cordelia asked, feeling very out-of-the-loop.

"Just something about why the spell might have affected Wesley. Supposedly, some very unique people are -"

"OH, MY, GOD! I totally forgot! I wanted to tell you guys right away but you didn't come back before the other guy got here and -"

"Cordelia..."

"Oh, right. Anyway, Wesley, he's got a power! You see that book over there by the door; he threw that at the guy...without even touching it! He can, like, make things float and stuff. The vase, that was him too. He says he doesn't know how he did it and that he doesn't like it, but you guys have to tell him how cool this is so that he won't try to get rid of it, I mean, how useful could this be! You wouldn't even have to get up to close a door or fetch the remote, you know, and... wait a minute, you guys knew, didn't you?"

Their blank expressions had stopped her rant, and she felt somewhat disappointed that this revelation hadn't affected them more. 

"Cordelia, Harris explained it all to us. We think that Wesley had some kind of connection to the mystical energies that he didn't even know about. The spell must have awakened it or something. But we didn't know that he had actually done anything with it yet. Honestly!" Angel had noticed the scowl on her face, probably caused by the fact that he seemed to know more about this than she did, despite her discovery.

Thinking it better to avoid Cordelia's jealousy, he changed the subject slightly and addressed Harris.

"So, telekinesis, what does that mean? You said the individual determines the particular power, so why this?"

The demon blinked for a second, not sure how to respond. They all assumed him the expert in this, but most of his observations had been mostly down to guesswork. He decided it best to make a couple of educated assumptions, just to keep them happy.

"Well, it certainly seems to me that this power is not meant to be aggressive. I mean you'd expect fire or electricity or something if he was the bitter type..." He lowered his head a little at the looks that earned him but continued, determined to be of some help to the people who had brought him back from the brink of utter madness.

"I would guess that this is meant to be some sort of defensive thing, you know, protective. He likes to help people, right?"

The group looked at each other. It made sense; at least, as far as Wesley becoming some kind of magical receptor could make sense.

"It also means that he has the potential to become particularly powerful. Controlling fire and water or just physical elements generally, it's very limited. Most of the time, like with me, small bursts of energy have to be channelled into a restricted area to get a result, or the particular element has to be present for manipulation to a greater degree. With telekinesis, concentrated energy is not needed, so it can be spread over a wider area. As long as there are objects available to him, he is capable of moving many things at a time, or moving one very large and heavy object with some force. He could be really dangerous if he cannot contain himself or resist the temptation of all that power. Me, I'm nothing in comparison. Sure, I can throw a bit of fire here and there, set things alight. But I couldn't hurl a tree or make walls collapse. That would be far more devastating."

"Well, I guess we know now why Wolfram and Hart had an interest in this. They're all for a bit of devastation. We'd better get moving, Gunn. Now."

Angel went to sort through the weapons Gunn had brought up from the basement, grabbing a good assortment of offensive items. Bearing in mind that most of the lawyers were human, he packed a gun or two, just in case. 

Cordelia looked on in amazement. "Wait a minute, what do you mean 'Gunn'? What about me, I'm coming too."

"Oh no, I really don't think that you are in any shape to fight right now, especially considering who we're dealing with."

"Yeah, and you are I suppose? You and Gunn, taking on the entire Wolfram and Hart building, full of demons, vampire detectors, magical entities and, not to mention, sadistic lawyers from hell. It's suicide, and you need all the help you can get."

"I really don't think you'd be much help to us right now anyway, Cordy." She was hurt by that, but she didn't let it show. It would ruin her 'hardened bitch' expression she was using to try and get Angel to let her come along.

"And besides, you don't need to worry, we're not about to storm the place. We'll use more...conservative methods. We need you to stay here and baby-sit."

Damn it. They were going to get themselves killed, and they didn't even look as though they cared! Gunn had that stupid 'yay, we're going to kill something' smile on his face, and Angel was being all bravado to impress her. It wasn't working. Did they even care that Wesley was her friend too and she wanted to help? Had they even thought about the reason they were doing this in the first place? Neither of them had even mentioned Wesley's name at all, let alone shown concern for his whereabouts. They didn't even know for certain if Wolfram and Hart had him or not. As usual, they were just rushing straight into things. Men. They were all the same.

She wished Wesley were here to add a little organisation and common sense to the proceedings. Oh well, looks like it was up to her. 

She watched them leave the hotel without so much as a goodbye. They hadn't even made sure she would be all right with this demon guy who, for all she knew, could turn evil any second and try to eat/impregnate her or something. Had Angel even considered the possibility that it would be light when he got back, and that he might not be able to come home again? Ugh. They frustrated her so much. She looked over at Harris, who was nervously shuffling his feet around on the floor. He was her only hope.

"OK, look, mister demon guy. I don't like you, and you don't know me, but I need your help. We have to follow them and save them from themselves, and you're the only one in this room who can walk without crippling over..."

* * *

Murmurs. Rustling. A shadow and then nothing. Silence again.

He liked the silence. He was so tired; all he wanted to do was sleep. He wasn't very comfortable, but that didn't matter. He didn't have the energy to flip over, or even to move his arms. They felt awkward, like they were forced behind his back. 

Oh well.

There's that murmuring again. God, it was bloody annoying. 

He tried to open his eyes, but it didn't work very well. Everything was blurry, well, more than usual, anyway. He thought he saw movement, like a dark shape shifting before his eyes, but he couldn't be sure. Then some noise, close to his ear. Was someone there? Was someone speaking to him? That's a bit rude, coming into someone's apartment and waking them up when they hadn't been invited. 

Who were they, anyway? It didn't usually take him this long to get up, especially if someone had disturbed him. This wasn't right, something was wrong. This wasn't his apartment, and he was on the floor.

Dread crept through his limbs, and he finally felt the hardness of the ground and the rough texture of the carpet grazing against his skin. He would have panicked, but he was too exhausted. 

He felt his weight shift as he was pulled up and squeezed his eyes shut against the intruding glare of light that was shone in his face.

Someone was holding him up and had grabbed his collar, forcing him to face them.

They were talking again, but it was loader this time, harsher. Then they shook him. This was way too familiar. He decided he didn't like this dream anymore and tried to wake up, opening his eyes again and struggling to stay conscious. 

This time, he got a better look at his assailant. Definitely a demon, no doubt about that. He was ugly and smelled funny, but that wasn't half as worrying as the fact that he seemed to have gaping holes where his eyes should have been. 

Wesley strained his tired eyes and tried to focus without the aid of his glasses. He wasn't having much luck, and considered the possibility that he would probably regret getting a good view of this guy anyway.

OK, this was getting ridiculous now. He would have to do something about this. He tried to move, maybe push the demon away so as he could get some space to breathe. The demon countered his feeble attempts, however, and only shook him harder. He seemed to be asking a question that Wesley couldn't understand enough of to answer. It all sounded like an incoherent slur to him.

His failure to respond only seemed to anger the demon further, and he was thrown backwards into the wall. It didn't hurt as much as it should have done, the drugs still in his system saw to that. But it still jarred him, and he shrank away, trying to escape.

Didn't work. The demon had hold of him again, only this time, he was pressed against the wall so hard that he could barely breathe. A big scaly paw hit him in the jaw, knocking him sideways. He fell to the floor, not even uttering a sound in his defence. He was completely at the mercy of whatever monster this thing was, and he knew it. His heart sank as the demon loomed over him, ready to pick him up again and deliver another blow. 

He wished that he hadn't woken up. This was not going to be good.

PART 8.

 

Wesley knew what they were trying to do. After giving him a sound beating, the demon had left him were he lay, guarded by a couple of rough looking hire outs. The onslaught of pain had helped to clear his head and, by now, enough time had passed for most of the effects of the drugs to have worn off.

It had taken him a little while to work it out, but then, that was to be expected, seeing as how he wasn't exactly at his best at the moment. The short respite from his tormentor had given him a chance to think things through, not least of which was the question of where exactly he was. 

It was hard to tell anything from the floor, but there were clues to be found, for what good they did him. Typical beige carpet, fake wooden panelling and shelving, the occasional unfriendly chair and desk, and a really big window framed by slatted shutter blinds. The view was unmistakable. LA at it's finest; high rise buildings with their multicoloured neon patches and glowing lights reaching up into the night sky. Emerald green glass and smooth, metallic veins giving it an unnatural coolness that shone out into the hot desert air. 

It was beautiful, he had often thought that. Not like England though, of course. But you had to admire it for it's jagged unconventionality and complex structure of disharmony and contrast, each element refusing to conform and match with the other. It was intriguing. 

Now, bound and gagged as he was, it seemed far more sinister and menacing. Watchful eyes hidden behind every pane and a concealed purpose lingering in silence, disturbed only by the occasional siren or irate motorist. He could still hear the gentle hush of the traffic, high up though he was. It flowed constantly, ebbing and swirling like some storm whipped ocean, waiting to swallow up the unsuspecting travellers that found themselves out of place on its surface.

This nightscape was shrouding the building he was in, protecting it from anyone who might wish to find him, making it blend in and seem normal. He knew that was not the case. This place was far from ordinary, he had realised that now. Only one firm in this whole city would combine evil demonic beings with the tacky furnishings of some wanna-be movie set office. Wolfram and Hart.

Who else? He guessed he had it coming. It was his turn now. Even Cordelia had endured the interference of this company in her life. He didn't kid himself, though; it wasn't because he was special that he had been selected for this particular scheme. It was all some big plot to get at Angel, at the end of the day, and he would just have to play his part in it.

He'd already figured out that they were behind the spell. They obviously knew more about the effects it would have than any of them, and now they were reaping the results. They thought that they could beat him into submission, maybe push him over the edge and see what would happen. He knew better than that.

He'd already been blown up, tortured by a very maladjusted rouge slayer and had his insides ripped out by a bullet from a zombie cop, no less, as well as come out alive after the everyday dealings of his job. If he could survive a run in with Cordelia after having unintentionally criticised her fashion sense, he could survive anything. After all, what's a little pummelling when you've endured the horrors of the American version of 'English tea'?

Maybe it was just because he had automatically gone into Watcher-mode, but he felt it best to keep a bit of humour, considering the circumstances. They were trying to intimidate him using force, and he couldn't let that work. What was it the book said? Extremes of emotion or something? Anyway, all he had to do was remember his training for this sort of thing. There was a time when that wouldn't have made any difference. He'd have cracked straight away and told them everything, probably given them Angel, Cordelia, her parents, Gunn's Auntie's pet cat, whatever. But he had something to prove now. He owed them and he wouldn't let them down, not if he could help it.

He could feel his strength returning now, and he lay perfectly still to avoid drawing attention. There wasn't much he could do without the aid of his hands, but at least now he would have a shot at running...probably. That's if the opportunity even presents itself. He'd better just wait and see what they were going to try next. If only he could be left alone...

The office door opened without so much as a squeak, letting in a sliver of illumination from the corridor. Giant feet made their way around the desk to reveal the demon, back for round two. 

"Here we go again", Wesley thought to himself as the demons tree-trunk arm hauled him up by his neck. He grit his teeth against the discomfort as he was lifted into the air, his feet dangling inches from the ground, and then thrust cruelly into a chair in the middle of the room. He gasped for breath but didn't give the demon the pleasure of seeing him show any fear. He collected himself and lowered his head, glaring at the demon through dangerous eyes.

He didn't have to wait long before the door opened again, admitting some woman in annoyingly loud and clicking high-heeled shoes. It was only when she came closer that he recognised her as one of the lawyers they dealt with on a regular basis.

She grinned mockingly at his appearance and gestured for the guards to leave.

"I'd offer you my hand but you don't seem at liberty to take it", she chimed, looking pleased with herself. "I'm Lilah Morgan, attorney with Wolfram and Hart."

I know who you are.

"I trust you're already well acquainted with my assistant..." She motioned towards the door and another figure walked in, although with much less confidence and assurance than the previous. Wesley squinted and struggled to see the face of the newly introduced person; anxious to see whom she was referring to. 

Nothing could prepare him for what he saw. He may be as good as half-blind at long distances without his glasses, but there was no mistaking this person. 

Lindsey McDonald. Except, it didn't quite seem like him. He was different somehow, the blank expression on his face dispelling any of the arrogance and smugness he usually carried. He didn't say a word, or even look directly at anyone. He just entered the room and stood where Lilah pointed, keeping his head down.

He looked almost as bad as Wesley felt, his clothes and hair were limp and dirty, and all of the colour had drained from his face. His eyes were vacant and dull, mirroring the emptiness that had hold of his existence. This wasn't the man he knew.

Lilah had watched the surprised look permeating Wesley's features, and smiled to herself as she approached. 

"I can see what you're thinking", she said, "You want to know how it is that Lindsey is back. You thought you'd seen the last of him, didn't you? Well, you should know something about this little firm of ours. A contract is for life, and no one goes back on their word. The senior partners don't look kindly on deserters, even those so inconsequential as Lindsey here. He thought he could escape by running off into the sunset where no one would ever find him." She laughed and patted Lindsey on the cheek.

"Nobody gets away that easily. Oh and, by the way, let this be a lesson to you, friend. If you're thinking of running, don't bother. I promise you that you'll not make it past the end of the corridor."

She walked around to the back of Wesley's chair and leant over his shoulder, removing the ragged cloth from his mouth. She waited for a second or two, expecting him to speak. If she thought she was going to hear him beg for release or ask her to explain her evil plan, she had another thing coming.

"Well? Don't you want to protest at your ill-treatment, tell me that I'm never going to get away with this or that you'll see me in hell before you spill anything?"

Absolutely not. Besides, that would be way too cliché. 

"Aren't you going to ask what all this is about? I'm sure you want to know."

He remained silent. If the Watcher training had taught him anything, it was never to give away your emotional state, and he didn't trust himself to keep a steady voice right now. He just stared ahead, refusing to give any sort of response that she could use to her advantage.

It seemed as though she had expected that, and she leant back with an unnecessary sigh. 

"You know, you're only making this more difficult for yourself. You don't want my demon friend here to start on you again, do you? Oh well, more fun for me. I doubt you'll be much of a hard nut to crack, you always were a bit of a loser."

She strolled round to the front of the chair, and Wesley looked at her with curiosity.

"Oh yes, we know all about you, and you're little demon busting friends too. There's not a thing about any of you that we haven't got on file. What we don't hear from our various sources, we have our psychics look into. How do you think we found out about you're little secret when even you didn't know about it? Bit slow on the uptake there, aren't ya, Wes?"

He couldn't help a slight frown for that last comment. It disturbed him immensely to discover that Wolfram and Hart were equipped to find even the most intimate details out about a person, and he wondered what else they knew that could pose a threat to Angel.

Seeing that she was having an effect, Lilah moved closer and whispered in his face.

"I know all about you and your pathetic life. Have to say, not very impressed." She backed away again and began circling, a little smirk on her face. God, she loved her job.

"Not that you'll have to worry about any of that soon. We're going to make something out of you, something to be proud of. All that waste of time before now won't matter; you can put it all behind you, start again. You'll forget all the pain and the heartache at the hands of you're good-for-nothing, so-called 'friends' and make something of yourself, instead of letting Angel overshadow you all the time. That's what you want, isn't it?"

He could feel himself flushing now, and that wasn't good. He knew she was making this up to get at him, but a little part of him somewhere must have felt touched, because her wind up was working. OK, so he was paranoid, but that doesn't mean that any of it is true. He just needed to stay calm and work through this. She'd get bored with her teasing soon enough.

"You know they don't really care about you, right? They're probably cursing you at this very moment for letting yourself get abducted. You can't even take care of yourself, Angel will have to come and rescue you, again. Give it up, Wesley, let it go. You can be better than this, and you know it."

"You're wrong..." Damn it. Had to open your big mouth.

"Oh, am I? You know it's true, you feel it. I can see it in your eyes. You're a liability to them, and Angel wants rid of you. Why do you think he never came to you at the hospital that time? He was glad you got shot, thought that maybe you'd do yourself a favour and go home. You're not cut out for any of this. They know it, you know it, even your father knew it..."

Lilah's smile widened. That hit a nerve. He was breathing heavily now, trembling with the effort to contain himself. Wouldn't be long now...

"Here, let me give you a little demonstration." She nodded at the eyeless demon that was standing next to her, and he swiftly dealt a blow to Wesley's side.

The pain was intense. Too winded to cry out, he doubled over and blinked through the tears, choking when he couldn't catch his breath. The demon placed a hand against his shoulder and pushed him back upright, stopping him from falling off the chair all together. It snarled menacingly at him, bearing its teeth and leering in his face.

"You see", Lilah continued, "You're weak. You can change that. Don't be a disappointment and a failure all your life, Wesley, let it all go. All the anger and the bitterness, I know you feel it." She paused, looking down at Wesley as he was wracked with painful sobs, praying that his guts weren't going to spill out everywhere and kill him, once and for all. This was too much for anyone, and he'd lost what hope he had of keeping a clear head. 

When it seemed that he wasn't going to say anything, Lilah shrugged and turned her back on him for a moment, grinning to herself as she spoke.

"Maybe your father was right, you'll never amount to anything. You're a useless coward. You were never good enough for the Council, just like you were never good enough for daddy..."

Snap.

The demon let out an ear-piercing shriek as it was thrown across the room, smashing into the opposite wall with such force that the shelving fell down in pieces on the floor around it. Wesley rose smoothly from his chair, fury burning in his eyes.

"Ooops", Lilah cracked sarcastically, "That's done it..."

She backed away slightly as Wesley strode across to her, ready to do her some serious damage. She hesitated for a split second before shouting, "Now, Lindsey!"

The shorter man sprung forward with surprising speed, considering that he had previously stood statue-like in the corner, staring into space. He lashed out a hand and slapped something cold and hard onto the back of Wesley's neck, before he had a chance to throw him back.

As soon as the object made contact, it sent a searing jolt through his body, forcing him to the ground, writhing in agony. He'd have scrabbled around at the back of his head to get it off if he could have, but his hands were still tied behind his back. He screamed in protest at the cruelty, but it gained him no sympathy.

Lilah emerged from her protective hiding place and stood over him, smiling down coldly.

"Welcome to the family of Wolfram and Hart", She said.

* * *

They had made it this far, and they weren't going to give up now. Cordelia, with the supportive arm of a now untied Harris, had wobbled her way down the street in pursuit of Angel and Gunn. For some reason, they hadn't taken the car, so the two of them had had to follow on foot. And that was tricky, seeing as how Angel was already an expert in stalking, and his vampire senses could betray their presence at any moment.

They had had to keep their distance, only now, their prey was nowhere to be seen.

Cordelia made to demon stop so she could take a break. Things were starting to spin around her again, and she needed a second to steady herself.

"I don't see them", Harris confirmed helpfully, and sniffed the air to try and pick up the trail.

"Look, I didn't untie you and bring you along so that you could state the obvious", Cordelia snapped bitterly. She still didn't trust this guy one hundred percent, but he was her only hope of catching up with the boys.

"They must have gone a different way. It doesn't matter; we know where they're going. I'd suggest going through the sewers, but I don't think I could find my way. All the icky dampness and winding tunnels is Angel's gig. Maybe if we just find the building first and then go underground from there? I'll bet that's where we'll find 'em." Cordelia remembered the last time Angel had made an assault on the building. He'd gone in from underneath so as to avoid being seen. 

She doubted that Wolfram and Hart would be so stupid as to leave that particular entrance unprotected again, but Angel would certainly try it before considering a more frontal attack. She just hoped she could get there first and persuade them to think this through a bit more carefully. She knew she and Mr. Plays-with-fire here could help if they would just let them. There was no way she was just going to stay at home and wait for them to get killed. If they went, she was going too.

"OK, I think I'm ready to go again", she said, taking Harris' arm. He looked ridiculous in the hooded jacket she had found him, trying to cover up his demon features. She hoped nobody she knew would see her with this guy. She had her reputation to think of. Then again, who was she kidding, she didn't even know anybody else in this town, thanks to the ungodly hours she had to work.

It occurred to her then, as it often did, that these guys were her only real friends, her family. It only hardened her determination further to think that if she lost them, she'd have no one. She relied on and trusted them, so it was only fitting that she should be able to help them now. Surely the PTB wouldn't stab her in the back now; after all she had done for them?

She took a deep breath and carried on forwards, swearing to herself that she would do everything in her power to help them. This wasn't the time to get sentimental, so she banished her emotions from her mind and concentrated on walking, one step at a time. She hoped she wouldn't be too late and that Wesley was OK, wherever he was.

PART 9.

 

Here comes the tricky part. 

Cordelia and Harris had made it to the Wolfram and Hart building without incident, and Cordy was capable of walking on her own now. It had taken them a while to walk all that way, but, luckily for them, the evil law firm wasn't that hard to find.

It towered above them now, the roof concealed by darkness and the ever-present smog. It just oozed bad intent, and Cordelia shivered at the thought of all the foul deeds being committed within it at this very moment. 

Now that they were finally here, they needed to overcome the problem of actually getting in undetected. Angel and Gunn were still nowhere to be found, which confirmed Cordelia's assumption that they had taken the sewer tunnels. As much as she hated the darkness, dankness and general 'scankiness' of the sewers, that would have to be their route too.

She and Harris found a manhole without too much trouble, and the demon held the cover open for her as she climbed down into the seemingly never-ending abyss. When Harris had closed the lid and followed her down, they were plunged into almost total darkness. It seemed so ominous that Cordelia was reduced to a whisper, hoping that none of the usual nasties were down here at the moment.

"I still don't see them, do you?" It would take a little time for her eyes to adjust to the dark, but she assumed that demon eyes would work better than hers anyway, especially down here.

Harris took a good look around and sniffed the air again. They both stood still for a moment so that he could pick up any sounds from further along the tunnels, but it proved fruitless. He returned to her and shook his head.

"If they're down here, they must be on the other side of the building. I can't pick up anything. Maybe they went in above ground after all."

"No, they wouldn't be that stupid...I hope."

She didn't fancy their chances if they had dared such a move, it was dangerous enough as it was. She decided it best to press on anyway, to see what they could find. If the worst came to the worst, she and Harris would have to find their own way in without them.

They travelled on along the dripping tunnels, stopping before every corner to check for anything or anyone that might be lurking in the shadows. They had headed on instinct at first, choosing their route depending on the general direction of the building. When it seemed as though they had gone quite a way, Cordelia stopped and turned to her demon companion.

"I don't suppose you remember which way we came, do you?" she asked, rather sheepishly, realising that before long, they'd be at risk of getting hopelessly lost.

Harris gave her a look that could be interpreted as meaning 'I thought you were doing it' and then leant against a wall. Cordelia was about to join him when she noticed his body language changing. She stepped back a bit, fearing the worst, but he ignored her and pressed an ear to the wall.

"What is it?" she whispered, hoping that nothing bad was going to happen. They hadn't even got to the hazardous part yet, and she had received enough shocks and surprises today to last her a lifetime.

The demon looked upwards and then ran his hands along the smooth, flat surface of the wall. It wasn't damp and slimy like the rest, and seemed to be made out of concrete, unlike the slightly curved brickwork of that opposite.

"I think this is part of the building itself", he mumbled, listening to a sound that Cordelia couldn't hear. He lowered his voice and turned back to her, pointing with his claw.

"I can hear people talking behind here, it's not very thick. It must be part of the basement or something. If we keep following it round, we might find an entrance or a grate..."

"But that's just what they would be expecting! They've probably got all sorts of mojo going on to protect the doors, and laser beams over the air vents, you know, like in the movies."

Harris was slightly amused at the serious way in which Cordelia gave that little speech, but he didn't say anything. He decided that he liked her a lot more than her friends, and that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing that he had been dragged along on this mission after all. 

"I'm sorry I lied to you guys, you know, before..." Where did that come from? He hoped she wouldn't take that the wrong way. He really wanted her to trust him.

Cordelia turned and looked Harris in the eyes. She paused for a second, not really knowing what to think. When he started to look uncomfortable and shied away, she relaxed somewhat, and took the apology for what it was. 

"It's OK, I understand." She gave him a brief smile, not wanting to seem too friendly, and then focused her mind back onto solving the problem. She walked over to the wall and touched it herself as if expecting to be able to feel its thinness. An idea came to her, and she abruptly turned to face the demon.

"Use your powers."

"What?!"

"Use your powers, on the wall. Blow a hole in it or something. Come on!"

"Whoa, wait a minute, don't you remember what happened last time? As I was told, you got a pretty good view of it in your head. I don't think that's such a good idea. Besides, I can't just do it when I feel like it. You know how it works."

Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him and walked a bit closer, bringing a hand up to hit him in the arm as she did so.

"Hey!" he protested, "That hurt!"

He backed away from her to the other side of the tunnel as she took another swipe, catching her wrists to stop her from attacking him.

"Stop it, this isn't funny!"

She ignored him and thrashed her arms, trying to get loose. When that didn't work, she kicked out with her feet, trying to stamp on his thigh.

"Do it, do it, do it, do it!" she shouted, lashing around like a wild thing in his arms. He clung on to her, desperate to make her stop without actually hurting her. The intensity of attack was starting to scare him, and he wondered if something weird was happening to her.

"Cordelia, please..." It was no good. Nothing he could say would make her back off, and he considered the option of wrestling her to the ground. He moved his hands to her shoulders, ready to flip her down, but she anticipated the move and took the opportunity to sink her heel into his ankle.

He cried out in pain and pushed her away, and before he cold stop himself, a fireball hurtled from his fingertips and into the flat concrete wall. Cordelia jumped to the side and threw herself to the floor, covering her head with her arms just in time. A small portion of the wall exploded outwards with a moderate thud, and chunks of plaster and powdery dirt rained down on them both.

Choking through the dust, Harris ran to Cordelia's side, convinced that he had killed her. To his relief, she got up and brushed herself down, squinting against the particles in her eyes.

"Are you alright?!" He asked frantically, fearing the worst. The guilt was evident in his voice, and Cordelia immediately put out a hand to reassure him.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I was ready for that. I'm sorry I kind of freaked you out, is your leg OK?"

Harris stared at her open mouthed, absolutely mortified at what he had done.

"But...why did you do that? I could have killed you!"

"Nah, I knew you wouldn't do something like that. I'm way too nice a person for you to make toast out of", she joked, smiling at him as she walked past. 

Harris stood where he was, slowly comprehending the nerve of this woman, and Cordelia went over to inspect her handiwork. It wasn't very big, but the hole left behind by the demon's outburst was sufficient for them both to crawl through.

She squeezed her way in, finding a dark and relatively empty room on the other side. Other than the odd filing cabinet, the place seemed deserted. She poked her head back out into the sewers and whispered loudly.

"Psst! Are you coming or not?"

Harris turned and wandered over, a shocked expression still on his face. Cordelia grabbed his shirt and pulled him through; being careful not to let any more bits of wall fall in her hair.

When they were both inside, they took a second to glance around.

"Well, whoever it was you heard, they're gone now." Cordelia hoped that the sound of the explosion hadn't attracted any attention. She opened the nearest drawer and started flipping through the contents.

"Better make sure this is the right place", she told Harris when he gave her a questioning look. "Rifle through some of those over there and see what you can find."

Harris did as he was told and soon got absorbed in the material he found. There were pages and pages of records relating to all sorts of projects undertaken by the twisted lawyers of Wolfram and Hart. They were in the correct building all right. There were references to virtually every mystical being under the sun, and some to those that weren't. There didn't seem to be scam that these guys hadn't tried and, by the looks of it, they were successful in nearly all of them.

A tap on the shoulder made him jump three feet in the air, and little sparks and flames shot from his claws. He turned around in annoyance to see Cordelia standing behind him, an apologetic smile on her face.

"Geez, don't do that. Do you want me to burn the place down?"

"Actually..." She smiled a bit wider as she thought of the satisfaction she would get from seeing the entire building and its occupants ablaze, but quickly scolded herself for the idea when she remembered who else was probably in it. She shook herself from her thoughts and smiled at Harris again, trying to keep his good humour.

"At least we know you can fend off any big uglies that might sneak up on us! Anyway, look at this. There's a whole load of stuff here about Angel. I wonder if we could smuggle some of this out when we -"

Harris had suddenly put up a hand to silence her.

"Someone's coming", he whispered, and they both hurried behind the door, hoping to catch anyone entering by surprise.

They heard keys being turned in the lock, and Cordelia realised how foolish they had been to think that they could even get so far as exiting the very first room. The door opened, and three people in suits walked in, all of them men. The first rushed over to the hole in the wall, and the others followed, expressing their ignorance as to what had happened. 

As soon as they were all clear of the door, Harris pushed it shut and leapt at the nearest man, forcing him to the floor. Cordelia readied herself for a confrontation as the other two turned to see the intruders and made a rush towards them. It seemed that only one of them considered Cordelia to be a significant threat, and she felt grateful that at least she didn't have to fend them all off at once.

Trying to remember some of the moves she had learnt from the others during certain fights, she traded blows with her opponent until he out-manoeuvred her and knocked her towards the wall. He pulled a knife from out of nowhere, and brandished it at Cordelia, threatening to stab her if she moved. She froze, terrified of what would happen to her, when she heard Harris call her name in distress. She watched as, before her very eyes, the knife wielding man burst into flames and began rolling around on the floor, desperate to put hem out.

He succeeded in his efforts, but Cordelia didn't give him a chance to get up again. She sprang over to him and gave him a firm kick in the head, leaving him sprawled over the floor. She breathed a sigh of relief before remembering to check for the others. She looked up to find that Harris had managed to neutralise another of the men, and was now pinning the last against the wall. This particular lawyer had obviously seen the fireworks display and had surrendered, begging for his life. 

It was then that Cordelia became a little worried, anxious not to let Harris get carried away. She approached him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, it's OK, they're not going to hurt you now", she soothed, feeling his heavy breathing.

He backed off and looked at his hands, obviously distressed about what he had done.

"Are- are you...if they hurt you..."

"No, we beat 'em. You can relax now, I'll take it from here." She watched Harris as he walked away and turned his back on the scene, trying to calm himself down. For the first time since she had known him, she pitied his situation and began to fully understand his need for their help. If this was what it was like for him, then perhaps Wesley was right. This power was dangerous in the wrong hands and wasn't to be taken lightly. She wondered in what state she would find her friend, if at all, and the thought fuelled her determination. 

She turned to the remaining man who was now cowering on the floor beneath her.

"Now, look here, you. You think that's bad? Well, if you don't do exactly as we say, then my demon friend here will...sprout poisonous spikes and...suck out your spleen through a tube! And as for me, well, I'm a demon too, and I can...make all of your limbs fall off with a simple chant! Now, get up!"

The man obeyed, trembling before her, and she felt a little rush from the power trip that gave her. Trying desperately not to smile, she ordered him to tie the others up with their own ripped clothing and went to retrieve the dagger from the grip of the burnt guy.

"This might come in handy", she thought to herself as she planned her next step. When it seemed that Harris had channelled his anger and gotten himself under control, she examined the bonds that her minion had tied to make sure they were secure. Satisfied with the result, she turned to the man and gave Harris a suggestive nod, spurring him to grab the man's collar and pull him close for some demon-style intimidation. 

Queen C was back. She looked the man in the eyes and sniggered at him, just for effect.

"Now, you're going to take me and my friend here up to the office of your junior partner, as your guests. And don't even think about trying anything. If I see you so much as reach up to scratch your nose, I'll have my friend here make sure you end up as a living match, just before he snaps your neck..."

* * *

Angel had decided against taking the sewers after all, knowing that, after the last few times he had used that entrance, Wolfram and Hart were bound to expect an assault from there. Besides, he didn't have the patience for such a carefully laid out plan. He had lied to Cordelia to keep her from protesting and worrying, when really, he knew that this had gone way beyond discretion. He wanted his researcher back and he wanted him now.

Knowing that the senior partners had plans for him and wanted him 'alive', he considered the risk of an open attack worth taking. They weren't going to kill him, especially if they thought that their plan had succeeded in releasing his darker side. Plus, he'd been her many times before, and they'd always let him walk, so unless he came across some rouge agent in the firm that would rather see him as a pile of dust than obey their masters, he was safe.

He had stormed into the main entrance with his game face on, dragging Gunn with him by his jacket. He strode through the lobby, throwing anyone in his way to the side. As expected, the security guards present had circled round him, drawing out their stakes as the vampire alarm had gone off.

He stood and growled at them all through bared fangs, chuckling at the effect it produced.

"Aw, come on, is that all you've got? Ain't ya gonna come and get me?"

One of the guards advanced with his stake held high, but, when Angel made a lunge for him, he jumped back hastily and retreated behind his comrades.

Angel smiled sadistically at them and gave the guard a wink.

"Nice try, boy, but you'll have to try a bit harder than that. Name's Angelus. Don't tell me you haven't heard that name a few times! And I'm really quite busy at the moment so I suggest you get out of my way and let me through."

The guards mumbled amongst themselves for a moment, obviously not sure what to do. One of them must have put across the point that they weren't supposed to kill anyone with that name, as they all reluctantly holstered their weapons.

"Who is it you want to see?" one of them braved, trying not to look nervous.

"I'm off to see the wonderful wizard of Oz!" Angel laughed, giving the floor a casual tap with his heel.

"Hand over the human, then."

"Hey, back off. This is my kill, and I'm getting peckish. I'll take one of you, though, if you'd rather?" He grinned again when the guards shook their heads in decline, and pushed his way past them to the elevators. He pushed Gunn in first before stepping in himself, giving the troop a little wave as the doors closed on them.

"Next stop, munchkin land..." He gave Gunn an evil 'signal' smile to let him know that everything was going as planned. They both knew that cameras and bugs were installed throughout the building, so they didn't want to risk a reassuring friendship hug just yet.

Ping. The cab stopped at their floor and they were greeted by a gang of well-armed demons who insisted on escorting them to Lilah's office. No doubt the encounter downstairs had prompted the receptionist to send a warning call in front of them. That didn't matter, Angel was prepared for it. They saw them through the door, but then pulled away, leaving them both alone in the room.

Angel hid his demon again and straightened his jacket, handing the axe it concealed to Gunn. He put his hand on the handgun he had brought along, just to check it was still there. It was. He closed his eyes for a second and mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Then he turned to face the door, hearing Lilah coming before she was even halfway down the corridor. 

When the door opened, he noticed Gunn's grip tighten, but the two of them stood rigidly still, waiting for that irritatingly confident smile to appear. There it was. Lilah almost skipped into the room, followed closely by possibly the ugliest demon Angel had ever seen and...wait a second, was that Lindsey?

He didn't have time to ask questions. Well, except for the important one.

"Where is he?"

Lilah cocked her head quizzically and sat at her desk, picking up a pen to tap on the surface with.

"Well well. If it isn't the elusive Angelus, or is it Angel? So hard to tell these days..."

He repeated his question with more passion. "Where is he?" 

"I'm sorry, who are we talking about? Oh, right. British guy. Tall, kinda cute, inferiority complex. Yeah, he's around here somewhere. I'm telling ya, that boy has issues."

Angel advanced, unable to contain his rage for much longer. Lilah realised that she had taken as much tolerance as she was going to get, so she stood from her seat and stopped him with a sentence before he could come any closer.

"You want to see him, I understand that. I'll get him for you, but don't be alarmed if he doesn't appreciate your concern." She smiled and nodded to her ugly demon, and his empty eye sockets seemed to glow for a second. 

Gunn audibly held a breath, and Angel turned to the door, hearing the footsteps approaching. The door opened and Wesley entered, or at least, someone who looked like him.

Angel stared in horror at the state of Wesley's face. He was covered in bruises and cuts from a severe beating, and all of the life was gone from his eyes. He shuffled in and stood next to Lilah, his head down and saying nothing. Pity would have swelled Angel's heart, had it been able to beat, and he had to hold Gunn back from an angry outburst of violence.

Lilah grinned at their expressions, taking great delight in the suffering she had caused them.

"You know, I hadn't counted on you finding us out so soon, I was going to come to you. But it doesn't matter; I guess it just speeds up the showdown. Goody. I can't wait to see what happens..."

She sat back down in her chair and her expression changed from mirth to contempt. Without taking her eyes off of Angel, she spoke a single word in the coldest voice possible. 

"Now."

The demon shifted and his eyes glowed again, or at least, the place where his eyes should have been did. Angel prepared himself for a fight with the beast, but it never came. Instead, Wesley lifted a hand and looked directly at both Angel and Gunn in a blank stare. Before they could utter a sound, they were thrown backwards into the wall and the axe was ripped from Gunn's fingers.

They both gasped when they hit the ground, struggling to their feet as Wesley approached them.

"Play nice, boys..." Lilah sneered.

PART 10.

 

Angel was shocked to the core. Hurtling through the air just now, he had felt like a speeding vehicle had purposefully aimed at and hit him, his best friend behind the wheel. Not only that, but it looked like the offender was threatening to reverse back over him a couple of times and then drive at him again.

Wesley had stopped short in front of both Angel and Gunn, totally emotionless and unfeeling. The axe that had once resided in Gunn's firm grip was now hovering mysteriously to the side, tantalisingly out of reach. If they had any hope of solving this with brute force, it was lost now, and Angel realised just how unprepared they had been. He might have known something like this would happen. After all, the firm didn't take Wesley away so that they could get to know one another better.

Angel straightened himself and looked into Wesley's eyes, feeling a chill when he met nothing but emptiness.

"Wes, what are you doing? Don't you know who we -"

Obviously not. He and Gunn were flung to the floor in the middle of the room and, to their dismay, found that they were unable to get up again. Whatever power was being used, it was holding them down now, reducing them to grovelling at Lilah's feet as she perched on her seat like a monarch on a throne.

"You just don't listen to me, do you?" Lilah cooed, moving around to the front of her desk so that she could lean back on it and look down her nose at her new captives.

"I told you he wouldn't take kindly to your interference. Not that that's really him, of course. He's long gone. So don't bother with your pleading, he won't remember you. If you really want to beg, try me. You'll find I can be very accommodating when the fancy takes me."

Gunn forced a snigger from where his face was pushed into the carpet.

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction", he rasped, deciding that if he was done for, he might as well go out in style. Angel may be able to withstand a repeated body slam against less than spongy surfaces, but for him, it was getting old. Much more of this and he'd be reduced to a bloody pulp. Not the way he had imagined ending his days, that was for sure. 

"Ah, well, how about I make yours a long and painful death rather than the quick one I had in mind? Actually, come to think of it, I don't think I can be bothered this time. You got lucky." She gave a sharp whistle in Wesley's direction. "Here boy."

Wesley stepped forward and Gunn was flipped onto his back, his own axe poised above his head. Angel could see what was happening through the corner of his eye and trawled his mind desperately for something to say that would end this madness.

"Lilah, don't do this, it's me you want." That's the best he could do.

He heard Lilah chuckle to herself before he was lifted up and pressed against the wall again, his arms and legs pinned down. She sauntered across to him and put her hand by his head, leaning over him in an unsettling manner. After a moment of examining his facial features, she grinned to herself and looked him in the eye. 

"You're right, it is you I want, or at least, the useful part of you. Which is why you're going to watch your boss slice your friend into tiny pieces before he turns on you. Then, as sad as it is for the company to loose such an asset, you're going to kill him before he dusts you and is unleashed onto an ignorant world to cause havoc of epic proportions. Then, if that doesn't work, we'll torture you for a bit until we release that inner demon of yours, then you too can enjoy the quite literally mind-numbing treatment that my demon friend here is so very good at dishing out."

She looked Angel up and down before giving him a degrading sneer.

"You know, when I told him he would get the chance of having one of the most notorious vampires ever to defile the earth as one of his little mind slaves, he got very excited, didn't you, Gretak?"

The eyeless demon gave a vicious grin to nobody in particular, revealing his very badly kept, yellow, serrated teeth. He said something in a very deep and malevolent voice that no one but Lilah seemed to understand. She rolled her eyes and gave a tut, turning to the demon in slight annoyance.

"Yeah, yeah", she sighed, "Just make it quick. I've got better things to do."

Angel watched helplessly as the demons eyeholes glowed momentarily and Wesley moved in for the kill. Gunn stared up at his friend with disbelief in his eyes.

"Angel..." Why did he even bother? There was nothing Angel could do for him now. He squeezed his eyes shut as the axe raised itself, ready to take a chunk out of his flesh. This was gonna hurt. A lot. 

He braced himself for the blow, accepting his inevitable demise, when a loud crash disturbed the execution about to take place. He opened his eyes again as he heard everyone in the room gasp, only to see the shining blade just inches away from his face. In a sudden release of pressure, he found himself able to move again, and instinctively lashed upward to knock the axe away before it fell on him, once and for all.

He leapt to his feet to see that the door had swung open, crashed into by the limp body of some man that Gunn had never seen before. Lilah and the demon had backed into a corner, with Lindsey and Wesley standing in front of them for protection. Angel also seemed to have been released, and he rushed to Gunn's side, extending a concerned arm to make sure he hadn't already been shredded into ribbons.

There was a loud growl from the corridor, and another body was flung past the doorway, stifling the resulting 'aahhh' when it hit the floor with a thud. Angel looked on in anticipation, readying himself for another confrontation. He listened intently for any clue as to what was happening out there, and tensed up when he heard two sets of hurried footsteps approach. He almost fell over with shock at what he saw.

Cordelia and a rather disgruntled looking Harris burst into the room, scanning around wildly. They both looked as though the hounds of hell were snapping at their heels, and Cordelia was wielding a silver dagger like some kind of psycho, daring them all to come at her and find out what she was capable of doing with it. They both finally let their eyes rest on Wesley, and then looked towards Gunn and Angel with questioning concern.

This was not the time to explain, but they soon found out for themselves.

The ugly demon snarled with fury at the interruption, and the two new guests received a taste of Wesley's power. They were forced to the opposite side of the room, hitting the shelving and then sliding down into a heap on the floor. Wesley went after them to keep them occupied, whilst Lindsey advanced on Angel and Gunn.

Angel would have laughed, had the situation not been so serious. He'd come up against Lindsey before, and he was no match for vampire stren-

Lindsey swung at him with his 'evil' hand, landing a punch right between Angel's eyes. It wasn't the most intimidating blow he'd ever taken, but it caught him off guard a little, and he was surprised at Lindsey's sudden speed and confidence. And he didn't slow down there. Without so much as a wince, he kept coming at Angel, knocking Gunn to the side in the process. Angel retaliated with a fist of his own, but Lindsey dodged it successfully and used the opportunity to slam down on Angel's exposed side. 

Cordelia stared up at Wesley in confusion, all words lost to her. He just stood there, watching them, with no spark of recognition and yet no hostility, nothing that suggested he wished them harm. He was completely expressionless. 

Harris studied the group on the other side of the room, and his eyes widened when he reached a revelation. The stuttered slightly, trying to get his words out.

"Cordelia, I think I know what's going on. That demon over there, it's a Duton."

"A what?"

"A Duton. They're mind-control demons. Do you see? He has no eyes. He uses his victims as eyes for him and dictates their every move."

"How does he do that? I don't understand, why doesn't he just do it to us?" Cordelia squirmed a bit, trying her best to move away, but Wesley still held her fast. She took a quick glance to where Gunn and Angel were fighting someone who really looked like Lindsey, and noticed that the demon's attention seemed to be focused entirely on them. He was engrossed. Harris spoke up again, a plan formulating in his mind.

"He uses these tiny enchanted tiles or discs that have to be put on the victims skin. Once they are there, they cannot be removed, and the demon has complete control over them until..."

"Until what? Tell me!"

Harris looked her in the eyes for a moment, deadly serious. "We have to kill the demon. They're very powerful, I don't know if we'll be able to -"

"Don't worry", Cordelia assured, trying to convince herself more than anything, "Angel hasn't let us down yet, and he won't. Look at him go!"

They both looked over to the brawl taking place, just in time to see Angel getting his guts kicked in and Gunn desperately clawing at the floor to reach for his axe. Cordelia laughed nervously before looking again at Harris.

"See, just fine. I'm sure they've got everything under control."

Harris was getting scared now. The flush of anger and courage that had kept him going whilst he protected Cordelia on their way up to the office had dissipated when he found himself helpless and at the mercy of a very pissed off demon freak with no eyes. He cursed himself for being such a coward, realising that any moments of pure fear on his part could prove disastrous for everyone else. Seeing Angel, their champion, struggling to fend for himself, let alone help the others, made him more anxious than he had ever thought it possible to be.

"Cordelia", he whispered, "Whatever happens, you have to promise me that you won't let me hurt anyone. Please, tell me I can count on you, it's important..."

Cordelia saw the anguish in his eyes and felt a pang of sympathy. She nodded and gave him a weak smile, trying to reassure him the best she could. She'd come to rely on him on their journey up here, and now it was his turn to lean on her. She wouldn't let him down now, and promised herself that she would always be there to help him when this was all over, to make sure he got back on his path. This whole situation was obviously stressing him out, and she admired his ability to recognise and admit his own faults before they got out of hand. 

If he had wanted to, he could have just given in to the temptation and flamed his way out of here, escaping trouble free and remaining all-powerful and dominating. He didn't owe them anything. But instead, he had stuck by them, and now he was terrified of exploding, quite literally, and not being able to save them. Cordelia felt something trying to break free in her chest, but suppressed the urge to get all gooey. This was serious, and she had to keep her head on straight. 

She reached out a hand and lightly touched his cheek before he could look away in despair. 

"It's OK, I'm going to watch out for you. I won't let anything happen, and I'm sure you won't either."

He looked at her in confusion, and for a moment she thought she had said something wrong. It wouldn't be the first time. Then it dawned on her; she could move. Wesley was no longer there, and they were able to get up from the floor, not that they did, of course. Cordelia held Harris down when he tried to rise, telling him that they had best avoid any attention before they figured out what to do.

It seemed that Angel and Gunn had finally got the better of Lindsey, and Wesley had been called in as reinforcement. Lilah and the demon were concentrating entirely on them, not considering Cordelia or some little albino demon to be of much importance right now. Cordelia flushed with heat at the thought, determined to show them a thing or two. In her outrage, she had failed to notice the danger that Angel and Gunn were now in, having flung Lindsey to the side and thinking that they'd won.

Harris could see what was going to happen, even if Angel, Gunn and Cordelia were unaware. He had to do something before Wesley exacted his revenge on behalf of ugly face over there. Not taking his eyes off the scene, he clutched onto Cordelia's arm to alert her, and slowly rose from his place. Before she could stop him, he had stepped forward and was shouting for attention.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, and Wesley turned to face him, the eyeless demon obviously annoyed at his confidence and apparent complacency. Harris froze to the spot, absolutely paralysed with terror and convinced he was going to die. That was what he had hoped for. He tensed his arms and jerked them upward, sending yet another ball of fire flying towards the bitch goddess lawyer and her minion. Damn it. He was so worked up now that he wanted to swear.

He knew what would happen next. He had counted on it. The other demon wasn't so stupid as to let a stunt like that materialise into anything that would put him or his boss at risk. His eye sockets sparked and Wesley raised a hand, catching the offending flames in mid-air and holding them in place, spinning over themselves in a never ending cartwheel display. The demon sniggered, thinking of what he would do now with this upstart albino to put him in his place.

Harris gathered up his remaining courage and took a deep breath, setting his determination.

"Brace yourself, you might want to get out of the way..."

Cordelia blinked, realising that he was addressing her.

"Oh, and, Cordelia? A little help?"

She knew what he meant. From her crouch on the floor, she lashed out a leg and smacked the sharp end of her shoe into the back of Harris' calf. He stumbled a bit and hissed, trying desperately to remember what he was trying to do whilst feeling his hands tingle with power. Cordelia scrambled into the corner as he let out a growl, spreading his claws out in front of him. 

The ball of flames expanded suddenly, filling the room with intense heat and light and sending everyone but Lindsey and Wesley scurrying for the floor, covering themselves against the attack. It exploded with a loud whoosh, throwing the two men across the room and covering the others in fragments of ceiling tiles. Cordelia thought she heard Lilah groan "My office!" but she couldn't be sure.

This was his chance. Angel had eventually worked out the cause of his problems, concluding that Lindsey could never have become such an adversary in a fight without some kind of mystical guidance. He had spotted the strange looking mark on the back of his neck and remembered back to when Cordelia had been flooded with visions courtesy of the very same law firm.

Everyone was recovering from shock on the floor, and the no eyed demon had yet to regain control over his victims. Temporarily blinded from his lack of suitable subjects, the demon was scrabbling at the wall, trying to pull himself up. Angel couldn't afford to let him.

He sprang at the beast, wrestling him back down to the ground and being careful to avoid the needle-like teeth that were being snapped in his direction. It occurred to him then that he hadn't the slightest idea of how to kill this thing. Oh well, a standard slice and dice ought to do it...he hoped.

Angel searched around for something to use as a weapon. A letter opener, a heavy ornamental Buddha head, a damn stapler, anything. For the second time that night (or morning, whatever time it was now), Gunn came to his rescue with his trusty axe. Unusually, he handed it straight over to Angel. He obviously wasn't too keen to get anywhere near this particular Big Nasty, particularly as it was flinging itself around like a rabid dog.

Without hesitation, Angel plunged the axe into thick crusty neck of the demon, hacking through a layer of clothing, crusty scar tissue, and finally, soft flesh. The head rolled away, releasing a torrent of sticky brown blood that quickly stained the surrounding furnishings, not to mention another one of Angel's good shirts. Shaking his arms down, he stood and turned, thinking that this had been too easy.

He waited for the sound of the demon crawling back to life, maybe reattaching its head, or spawning countless more replicates of itself. It didn't happen. This guy was definitely dead. Instead, there was a sickening crack, and Lindsey and Wesley sank to the ground, a dazed expression on their faces.

Cordelia had watched these events unfold whilst trying to comfort Harris in her arms, assuring over and over again that he didn't hurt her. She was torn now between staying where she was and rushing to Wesley's side. They both needed help, and she couldn't choose. Thankfully for her, she didn't have to.

Whereas Lindsey lay where he had fell, Wesley seemed to have recovered quickly, and had risen before even Angel could reach him. After a second to steady himself and discover that the mark on his neck had gone, he looked up and regarded Angel with a coldness that stopped him in his stride.

Lilah sniggered cruelly, rising from the relative safety of her concealed hiding place to gloat.

"You stupid fools. You think you can come in here and slaughter my employee and then just leave? Sorry to disappoint you, but life doesn't work like that. He's still under an influence. Maybe not mine, but he's still going to kill you all with the hatred I released. You're all doomed!" She gave a nervous smile, realising that she would probably die too, but that at least she would take them with her.

Harris had heard this little speech, and had noticed the glare that Wesley had given Lilah throughout. He couldn't help but feel some relief at this, and returned Lilah's malice with a speech of his own.

"You obviously know less about this than you think", he stated, much to the surprise of everyone in the room, "It's not just the power that is determined by the individual, or the resistance to the power. It's also the control. You think he will hurt us because that's what the likes of me would do. In that case, you under-estimate the nature of individuality."

Lilah's smile dropped, and she looked at Wesley with agitation. All of her breath was taken out of her when he looked her way and produced a sadistic grin, totally out of place on his otherwise gentle features. 

Angel saw it too and resumed his crossing of the room to get to him before anything could happen. Almost predictably, he was unable to get much further. Without giving any other sign that he had noticed Angel's presence, Wesley put out his palm and commanded, "Stop".

Cordelia jumped up in alarm and blurted out before she could stop herself.

"Wesley, no..."

The air was tingling with energy and Cordelia could feel the pressure on her ears again. She was pressed gently back next to Harris, and she watched as the same happened to Angel. He and Gunn were moved away from the centre of the room where Wesley now stood. He looked down at the unmoving body of the man that Harris had previously thrown through the door and turned him over with his foot.

"I know this man", he said thoughtfully, "He's the one who shot me and Cordelia. Idiot. He doesn't know what he's done."

With a casual flick of his wrist, the man was flung back through the door to where he had come from, slamming into the corridor wall. Wesley looked up at the disgusted faces of his friends and smiled. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to take good care of you now." He gave Lilah a sideways glance. "I might just kill her, though..."

The silver knife that Cordelia had brought with her but long since dropped sang through the air and came to a halt just inches from her face. She cried out in fear, trying to melt further into the wall she had backed into. When she dared to open them again, she came face to face with Wesley who was glaring menacingly into her soul. 

"What?" he spat at her, "Aren't you happy now that you've got what you wanted? Your little game worked, don't you like the result?"

He laughed and shook his head when all she did was whimper. He was going to enjoy watching her scream for mercy when he cut into her slowly. He wondered if she would even have the nerve to apologise for all of the hideous things she had done to them all. Probably not.

Oh well, there was only one way to find out.

PART 11.

 

"Don't do this."

Whoever that was, they'd better shut up, if they knew what was good for them.

"Wesley, this isn't you. I know you don't mean any of it."

It was Cordelia. Typical. Always had to interfere in everything he did.

What did she know anyway? She hadn't heard the things this woman had said. She didn't know everything that had happened, all of the meaningless things he had done in return for just one ounce of approval or love. He was nothing, but he would show them now. He'd show them all. Lilah would pay.

He hid the turmoil he felt and channelled everything into this fiend he held before him, claiming to be a person, to have a soul. He couldn't find one in there. A soul felt remorse, compassion for the fellow being. A soul had a conscience. Lilah was only interested in herself. Oh, she was sorry now, but only because she was the one that would have to pay. And he hated her for it.

His hold on the others was slipping, and Angel felt the waver of power. He glanced to Cordelia. She was edging forward with as little noise as was humanly possible. She caught Angel's look and tried again with her plea.

"Wesley...Wesley stop. Think about what you're doing. You're angry, you're not thinking straight. Please, just look at her."

His back to her, she could see him shift on his feet. He was listening to her, even if he refused to admit it.

"Look at her, she's bleeding. You're hurting her..."

Daddy, please, you're hurting me.

"What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't stop you from doing this? You'll never forgive yourself if you harm her. Just...let her go."

Lilah squirmed in his invisible grasp, seeing nothing but the dagger suspended before her. A tear fell from her eyes and she blinked the rest away, determined not to show her weakness.

He would not cry. He would NOT. Too late.

Wesley hesitated now, his mind blank. Confusion took hold, and he was unable to control his conflicting emotions.

All his hatred and bitterness was dripping away, vanishing into oblivion, and all he felt now was guilt. It was himself he hated, not her. All these years, the kind words that were supposed to repair the holes eroded away in his soul by the depreciating attacks dealt by his father, and then magnified by himself until they had felt true, had simply covered them up and cushioned him so that he wouldn't have to face his fear. And now, all that repressed feeling had manifested itself into a version of himself that he hated. Released by an ill-meaning woman that he unfairly blamed and a power that he wasn't ready for, he was becoming his father. He couldn't let that happen. He was strong enough to deal with anything his past tried to turn him into and he would no longer let it drag him down. He was his own man, he realised that now. 

Deal with it.

What was he doing? This had to stop. He felt so bad.

Angel almost tripped when the restraint he'd been straining against was released, and he let the forward momentum propel him into a dive, taking Wesley's legs with him. They both tumbled forward, coming to an abrupt halt when Wesley's head slammed into the leg of Lilah's desk. 

Cordelia let out a stifled gasp at Angel's sudden manoeuvre, but refrained from running over and beating the vampire away. She knew it was for the best. She had to check on the others. 

Harris was mumbling something to himself in the corner, Gunn was prodding the dead demon on the floor, just to make sure it was absolutely dead and that he had had good reason to be afraid, Lilah was crying into her hands, the dagger lodged upright in the carpet at her feet, and Lindsey, (yes, it was him,) was curled up behind the door, his arms around his head. What a mess. 

Cordelia mused that this bunch would need some serious counselling after this little escapade. The pleasant images of Lilah strapped down in a mental asylum were shattered when frantic cries from the corridor reminded her that they were still trapped inside one of the most evil sky-scrapers on the face of the planet. They were lucky not to have been disturbed this far, but that luck was about to run out.

How would they fight their way out of this one? At least two of them were reduced to vegetables, one was a gibbering wreck and all of them were absolutely exhausted. She decided against matching up names to those descriptions, considering herself to belonging to a least one category at the moment, and instead collected herself and helped some of the more emotionally unstable members of the group.

She hauled Harris to his feet and convinced him to get a grip on himself for the sake of the others, which he did with great difficulty, despite his desire to burn the building to the ground and be done with it.

Angel had pulled a rather stunned and unbalanced Wesley up to lean and slump against him, the blood trickling freely down his head.

"Cordelia, Harris", he called, trying not to drop him, "Can you guys take him between you? We have to get out of here, now. It won't take long for the mob to find out we're in here, and don't think they'll let us go with just a good hand-shaking."

The two of them took one of Wesley's arms each and held him up between them whilst Angel discussed battle plans with Gunn.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Bring it on!" Gunn answered, holding his blood-encrusted axe up high. The last encounter had spooked him, and he had begun to doubt his composure. Angel smiled at him, seeing his need to reassert his dominance, knowing that he judged his character through his ability to kill without question. Having Wesley nearly take him out must have knocked his ego, though he would never admit it to anyone. And Angel would never mention it. He knew better than that.

"What about him?" Gunn questioned, pointing to the huddled mass hidden behind the door as Angel was turning to leave. "Looks like the demon scrambled his brain."

 

Angel knelt down and pulled Lindsey's arms away from his face, getting not so much as a flinch in response. His eyes were wide and glazed with shock, and he was staring far into the distance at things no one else could see. Remembering his attempts at redemption and the moderately civil way in which they had parted all that time ago, Angel felt a slight prick of pity.

"We can't just leave him here. We'd better take him with us. You go ahead and lead the others out; I'll be close behind. Head for the elevators, we'll make our way down to the underground parking lot."

Gunn nodded his agreement and motioned for the others to follow, dragging Wesley with them out of the door. Angel picked Lindsey up, making him stand on his own. He managed it, but didn't seem capable of doing anything else for himself, and stood dream-like, swaying slightly when Angel nudged him forward. This was going to take forever. Angel persevered, however, summoning up some patience and being entirely unwilling to abandon him to the wrath of Wolfram and Hart.

He glanced over at Lilah before he left, seeing her hoisting herself up to her desk and reaching out a trembling hand for, what Angel assumed, was an alarm. 

"Don't waste your time, Lilah, we'll be long gone before anyone comes up to help you. Oh, and just to be clear, don't ever try anything like this again. If I find any of your people coming back after Wesley, I'll hold you personally responsible."

He gave her a pleasant smile when she looked up at him like a frightened mouse, and gently closed the door behind him.

He put his hands on Lindsey's shoulders and pushed him towards where the others were waiting.

"Why are you bringing him along?" Cordelia asked with disgust, the disapproval plain on her face.

Angel didn't have time to argue with her, but silently urged them on towards the elevators. They rounded a corner, only to be greeted by several of the demon party that had led them to the office in the first place. They were examining the carnage left by Cordelia and Harris' previous journey up, only to find that the answers to their questions had just walked up to them.

One of them stood up straight and faced them grinning.

"We've been expecting you..." 

"Really? I was just about to say the same thing about you..." Angel launched himself at the first demon, knocking him flat with all his weight behind him.

"Run!" he shouted, blocking the remaining mob and their arsenal from reaching the others, and Gunn took charge to usher them back the way they had come. If Angel could just keep them occupied long enough, they'd have a chance of making it to the fire escape. The building did have one, right? Surely even evil law firms had a set of stairs in case the elevators didn't work, and besides, they wouldn't risk building code violations by not installing appropriate exits in case of emergences, would they? Gunn hoped not. 

He grabbed Lindsey by the arm and bolted, getting in front of the others to protect them against whatever might be waiting for them at the other end of the corridor. He had no disillusions; he knew he wasn't Angel. But he was all they had right now, and he'd be damned if anything was going to give them more grief.

"Stick by me", he cautioned them as they came to a set of promising looking doors.

"Yeah, easy for you to say", Cordelia complained, stopping momentarily to shrug her load up a bit higher. "Come on, Wesley, do us a favour, OK? I can't carry you all the way back."

Harris tried his best to carry a bit more of the weight, seeing that the tall man was dwarfing Cordelia's smaller form. She smiled her appreciation over at him, and he couldn't help but feel hopeful. Everything was going to be fine, especially if she was here. Nothing life threw at her seemed to dampen her spirit, and it was encouraging.

Gunn jerked one of the swing doors open in a less than timid fashion and was relieved to see a staircase. Finally, a break at last. He held it ajar and saw his four charges through, taking a fleeting look over his shoulder in hope of catching some hint of Angel's progress. He could hear the demonic battle cries, the clashing of metal and the occasional wet thud, confirming that it didn't take a vivid imagination to guess what was going on. Angel could handle himself.

What he didn't know as he turned from the scene and fled was that Angel could have used a little help. The situation was getting out of hand, considering that these things didn't seem to want to die. No matter what he did or how hard he did it, they got straight back up again, reattached various body parts, and kept on at him without so much as a limp. Wow, sometimes he really hated his job.

An icy blade shot its way through his undead flesh, leaving a searing gash in its wake. He clutched his arm and growled, releasing those feral yellow eyes once again. Glaring up at his enemies from under his twisted and menacing brow, he felt the thrill of the fight rush through his body, powering him to a new height of frenzy. His vampire's lust for death and carnage remained unquenched, and his weary limbs felt replenished with the need. 

He plunged onward with renewed enthusiasm, taking out all of his anger on his foes. The group of demons blanched slightly at the change, some retreating back toward safety. Those that remained spat and cursed obscenities at the extra effort needed to keep up, reverting to an animal state when the more refined methods of battle failed to have effect. They bared their fangs, biting and snapping, lashing out talons that oozed with viscous venom. Their whole physical appearance changed as they abandoned calculated moves, their blood lust leaving them slathering at the mouth. 

Angel didn't want to wait around for them to hunch on all fours and start leaping for his throat, no matter how intimidating he felt. His domination of the situation was driving them to extremes, and there was no telling what they might do. He wondered if they even knew that Wolfram and Hart wanted him alive (in the animated sense of the word at least). Thick hairs on the back of their necks were bristling up through their uniforms, and their skin was taking on an unhealthy shade of what could only be described as tangerine. This was not a good sign. 

Driving them back with one last slash of his recently acquired length of piping, ripped from the ceiling, he turned on his heels, taking off after his friends. He didn't need to look back to hear the enraged snarls and pounding of feet in pursuit. Taking in a good lungful of air, he followed the route Gunn had taken, pulling an unoccupied receptionists desk over behind him to slow down his pursuers. 

With a short moment of hesitation, Angel determined the direction of his quarry. Down, obviously. Well, it doesn't hurt to check. He leant over the railings, assessing the distance down. It was a long way. What floor was he on? It didn't matter. He didn't have time for details. Not giving the beasts on his tail chance to catch up, he grasped the railing and flung himself over, his long coat lingering behind him for a split second before it vanished over the side, obediently following him down.

As graceful as the movement had seemed, Angel was regretting his decision now, his hands burning with the friction as he alternately caught and released each railing in the flights beneath him. Luckily for him, he didn't have to continue for long. The others hadn't gotten far before being intercepted, and Angel swung himself onto their level with a roll. He tried to make it look painless, flipping to his feet in a seamless motion. It was meant to instil a little fear in their adversaries, and possibly a little confidence in his ability to come out of anything unscathed, but everyone seemed way to occupied with their own problems to pay him much attention.

Gunn and Cordelia were beating at another of the bodyguard demons, a litter of similar bodies strewn at their feet. It seemed they had found a way to kill them. Angel moved in to help, and Gunn hurriedly explained their findings.

"They've got some kinda evil goo comin' out their fingers. It's like, poison or something. Stab 'em with their own hands, it seems to work."

Angel didn't need to hear a second opinion. He jumped on the demon and made short work of him, overpowering its own arms and impaling it with the sharp, dripping talons. It wailed and went stiff, keeling over immediately and smacking the concrete hard. Heaving a sigh of relief, they took a look around and realised that their victory was short-lived. The group after Angel was storming down the staircase, baying for their blood. They needed to get out of here, fast.

Angel looked to gather up the rest, ready for their hasty retreat. Wesley was clinging onto the wall for dear life, deathly pale and with blood still dripping down his face. He looked like he wanted to throw up, or pass out, or both. The flight down the stairs had been too much for him, even with the help of the others, and he was threatening to collapse altogether. Angel lifted him back up straight and he responded with a drowsy 'thank you', not really giving the impression that he knew where he was at all. 

Gunn prised Lindsey's grip from the nearest railing and directed him towards the new set of swinging doors that led off of the small landing they were stood on, presumably leading to another corridor. He had considered carrying on down, but that route did not look good, now that the commotion had been heard from downstairs and more reinforcements had been sent up towards them. Their only option now was to take the elevators, no matter who was in their way, and get to the parking lot and an entrance to the sewers. 

Cordelia ignored Gunn's orders to follow he and Lindsey out, brushing past him instead to where Harris was leaning quietly against the wall. He seemed to be propping himself up more than relaxing against it, and his placid expression was worrying her slightly.

"Are you alright?" she asked him as Angel made his way past with Wesley.

Harris looked up at her and smiled, a sad look in his eyes. He reached out a hand and brushed her hair back from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle for all of his white scales and claws. Something sank in Cordelia's stomach, and she looked down at his other arm, curled around inside his shirt.

"What is it?" she trembled, "Let me see."

He put up no resistance as she pulled his hand away to reveal a deep scrape in his side, the blood flowing down and staining his clothes.

"Oh my God..."

"It's OK", he whispered, "It doesn't hurt. Nothing does anymore."

He smiled again when Cordelia met his gaze, the tears welling up in her eyes. She had almost forgotten him in the heat of the fight, and hadn't even noticed when he had dropped behind. He had warned them about the poison the beasts carried, him being the never-ending source of knowledge when it came to demon species. He had told them how to kill these things without really expressing any fear, which Cordelia hadn't found odd at the time. She should have seen it, and she scorned herself now for not looking out for him like she had promised.

"Tell us what to do", she half sobbed, unable to keep the waver from her voice for much longer, "There must be something, I mean, it's not fatal, right? How do we help you?"

"You can't" he replied without bitterness, a knowing resignation in his tone. "There's nothing that can be done. It's for the best. I'm just tired now, I think I'll just stay here and rest."

He let himself slump down to the floor, and Cordelia joined him, cradling him against her. 

"Don't say things like that! We'll take you home with us, Angel can carry you, we'll get you fixed up as good as new, you'll see..."

Harris giggled to himself half-heartedly, ending with a weary sigh that broke Cordelia's heart.

"I think Angel's got his hands full already. And he needs your help. I don't want you to stay here with me; I'll be fine, really. Why don't you go on ahead and I'll catch up, you know, when I feel better."

Cordelia wasn't buying it and she told him so. 

"Don't you dare give up on me now! Not after what I told you. I promised, remember? I'm supposed to be here to help you, and that's what I'm going to do."

"You have helped me. And I won't be a danger to anyone anymore. I deserve this, after all. A fitting end, don't you think?"

The tears were flowing freely now, and Cordelia slapped Angel's hand away with passion when he tried to reach for her.

"No", she cried, "Your wrong. I don't believe you. How could anyone deserve this? It's not fair, after everything we've done..."

"Don't be sad. You have to be strong for them now, they need you. You don't need to worry about me. I'm not scared anymore."

Cordelia lifted a hand to her face and saw the blood. It was so red. Like human blood. So normal. She couldn't bear this. It was too cruel. How could the powers do this to her, to him? Did they have no heart at all? Images of Doyle flashed before her eyes and she clutched Harris tighter to her chest. She wasn't going to let it happen again, she couldn't.

Angel could hear the demons closing in on them and new they had to move fast. He had handed Wesley over to Gunn, telling him to get as far down the corridor as he could with him and Lindsey, and that he and Cordelia would catch up. He didn't kid himself; there was no way that all six of them were going to make it out of here alive.

Cordelia rocked back and forth, her own tears drenching her hair and face, refusing to admit defeat. Harris had closed his eyes and was leaning against her, his breathing slowing and becoming steadier. She had dreaded this. She shook him in the hope of keeping him with her and stopping him from slipping away where she couldn't reach him.

"No, no don't...Harris..."

She became more frantic in her attempts when she got no response, and Angel had to reach down and stop her from breaking down completely. He didn't have the heart to say anything to her, to tell her that he could tell, that Harris was gone. Instead he gently pulled her away, trying to keep her under control.

She kicked and screamed against him, straining to return to her friends side even as the demon mob descended on them. Angel had no choice but to almost lift her off of her feet and fling her through the doors before the snarling beasts reached them, hurtling down the hallway whilst the walls resounded with her protests of 'NO!'.

PART 12.

 

Cordelia screaming and kicking in his grasp, it was all Angel could do to stay upright, flying down the corridor with all the speed he could muster. Startled businessmen and women were knocked to the side with vehemence when they strayed in his path, only to be trampled flat again when they moved out to watch and were mown down by the oncoming mob in pursuit. 

Ignoring the shrieks of the unfortunate onlookers and the predatory roars of the angry demons, Angel reached the elevators just as a cab had been summoned. Gunn, Wesley and Lindsey were already waiting, Gunn giving unfriendly glares to anyone daring to poke their heads out of their offices and complain about the noise. When the doors slid open, he darted in and yanked the two passengers and their briefcases out with force. 

"Hey!"

"What the...?"

Pushing them aside, Angel dragged a very reluctant Cordelia in by her waist, slamming his hand on the 'shut doors' button when everyone else was safely stowed. The painfully slow doors weren't going to close in time, and Angel's mind raced when he saw the leader of the group round the corner and dive forward to put out a deadly paw, trying to prevent them from sealing shut completely.

With no time to even blink, Angel ripped the axe from Gunn's hand and sent it spinning through the ever shrinking slit, striking the demon between the eyes and forcing it backwards with a wail. It allowed the doors to continue their course without interruption, even if it had meant sacrificing their only effective weapon. They still had a handgun, but they were only too aware that would be of little use against self-regenerating poison demons. Angel repeatedly thumbed the button labelled 'basement', despite his earlier insistence that they make for the parking lot, which was situated on the floor above.

"Angel man, that ain't gonna make it move any faster", Gunn commented with slight irritation, annoyed that his favourite axe was lost forever, "Besides, I thought we were goin' for the sewers?" Sticking to the practicalities, he thought he would have a hope of concealing his anxiety and hold himself together. If he lost it too, Angel would have to cope with everything by himself, and that was way too much of a burden for anyone to have to handle right now. 

Angel's hand shot upwards and he ripped the surveillance camera from its mooring, crushing it in his fist. He put a finger to his lips and gave Gunn a meaningful look, nodding when the man responded with a noiseless 'oh'.

Angel stared intently at the countdown lights as they flicked through the floors. He regretted the situation intensely, wishing that he had the time to comfort Cordelia as she sobbed hysterically at his side, or to take the proper care of Wesley as he sank deeper into shock. 

Putting on a frustrated frown, he hovered his fingers over the control panel as they neared their destination.

"Gunn, get ready", he whispered harshly, and Gunn braced Wesley and Lindsey against the side of the elevator, ready for the jolt. 

When the yellow light blinked over 'garage', Angel engaged the emergency brake, bring the cab to an awkward stop before they descended any further. He forced the doors open with difficulty to reveal that they had almost ended up between floors, and that even Angel would need to jump and cling on to the exposed ledge to haul himself up. 

Scrambling his way through the not too generously sized gap, he took a quick scan of the parking lot before being satisfied that they were yet to be discovered. As he had suspected, the morning had already broken, and soft rays of sunshine were infiltrating their way down through the entrance to illuminate at least a small portion of the extensive, pillared area. Parked cars obscured the view of the other half of the garage, and concealed their activities from the mouth of the fire escape staircase. This wouldn't count for much if they lingered around to long, so Angel wasted no time in extracting his colleagues from their temporary cell.

Lindsey was the first to be pulled out, handed up by Gunn with only the minimal amount of grunts and cursing. Doing nothing to neither help nor hinder them, he was like a dead weight, making no effort to stand when Angel dumped him to the side. Angel didn't have the time or the inclination to worry about him at the moment, and continued his rescue with indifference.

Cordelia was next, shaking with grief but managing to at least put out a hand for Angel's convenience. She pretty much scrambled her own way up once Angel had a hold of her, leaving dented scratch marks on the wall where she had kicked out with her heels. Pulling herself to her feet, she made a point of helping Angel, despite her uncontrollable crying fit, for Wesley's sake, if not to take her mind off of Harris for the briefest of moments.

Angel had to reach down and hook under Wesley's shoulders, Gunn hoisting him up as far as he could from underneath. The sensation must have weirded him out slightly because he refused to let go of Cordelia's sleeves once he was pulled free, convinced that he was falling and was unable to stop. 

Gunn needed little assistance himself, but accepted Angel's hand when it was offered in aid. He gave a grateful nod and crouched next to his friend, intending to inquire about their next step. He opened his mouth to speak, but Angel cut him off.

"Can you hotwire a car?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gunn countered, an offended look on his face.

Angel heaved a frustrated sigh and used his no-nonsense tone of voice. This was no time for flippancy, and he was a little annoyed that Gunn didn't seem to be taking things very seriously.

"Gunn, can you do it or not?"

Gunn puffed out his chest indignantly and turned to the nearest car with what Angel swore was a slight pout. Finding the door to be inconveniently locked, (suspicious people, these lawyers, Gunn mused), he motioned for Angel to put his vampire strength to some use. A stylish little black number, it was a shame to have to smash in a window, but Gunn didn't have the time or the patience to test every car door in the garage until he found one whose owner had been stupid enough to trust to the good will of his fellow men.

Throwing himself into the drivers seat, Gunn disengaged the central locking so that Angel could go about loading her up. He fiddled around with the appropriate wires, dusting off the cobwebs that clung to his memory.

"I'm a little rusty at this", he mumbled to the others when they had finally all piled in, Angel being careful to secure their straps and taking the front passenger seat last of all. "Why couldn't we have just taken your car in the first place?" 

"I thought we went through this already", Angel replied, the impatience seeping through his voice.

"Yeah, I know, they might be watching, it's what they would expect, blahdi blahdi blah. I'm just sayin' that it would've saved a whole lot of effort, know what I mean?"

"Look, I didn't expect to have to get back to the hotel with the extra-" He ended that sentence when he noticed Cordelia had fallen quiet, obviously listening to their heated conversation. Not wanting to open that particular can of worms and unleash Cordelia's wrath, he decided to leave the 'I-thought-I-told-you-to-stay-behind' issue to rest. It wasn't what she needed to hear right now, and would only lead to another painful reminder of what had just happened.

"Bingo!" Gunn cheered as the vehicle coughed into life. Angel pulled his coat up over his head to shield him from any stray beams of light that would soon be threatening to incinerate him as Gunn brought the car around, heading for the exit ramp. Speeding past the enraged security guards that were spilling from the staircase doorway, Gunn made short work of the wooden restriction barrier, snapping it in two over the bonnet.

The sleek car screeched into the sunlit streets, sending its passengers veering to the left as it took a sharp corner before joining the ever-flowing river of LA morning traffic.

"Sorry", came the apology from the driver, aware that certain members of their group were in no condition for swerving and weaving. He slowed it down a bit when it looked as though they weren't being followed at the moment, considering a speedy retreat to be of little consequence since Wolfram and Hart knew where to find them anyway.

"Just head straight back to the hotel. I'm not running and hiding from them, they could find us if they wanted to anyway. We need to get back and sort this mess out, and all our books and weapons are there. It's as safe a place to be as any right now." 

"Are you sure?" Gunn asked when Angel had finished, doubtful of the best course of action himself.

Angel nodded silently, deep in thought. 

This whole thing had shaken him, and he needed a chance to collect his wits and decide what to do. If they could just get everyone settled back in the Hyperion, he might be able to come up with a solution. Right now, too many things were preying on his mind and worrying him, and he was too tired to plan ahead.

All this had been his fault, if indirectly, and he needed to find a way to end it, to make sure that Wolfram and Hart wouldn't come back after them. OK, so maybe that was an impossible task, but he should at least make sure that the game was put back in its place and things returned to the way they were before. It had gotten out of hand and the lawyers had overstepped the mark. They were out of line, even in evil terms. Was there no honour left in anything anymore? If this was going to be some ongoing cat and mouse dance, they needed to understand that it didn't involve the others. He couldn't help but feel responsible for Harris' death, and it ate him up inside to think that he was unable to protect his own friends, his family. 

It involved a delicate balance, this game, and each player understood his boundaries. The lawyers deal a blow, Angel would dodge it, and at the end, he'd be left in peace for a short while to get on with his mission whilst they conjured up a new tactic. That's the way it was meant to be. If they came for them in the hotel now, after Angel had beaten them fairly, it would upset the rules. They didn't want him dead, only dark, so surely even they understood that pushing this any further was pointless. He was in the loop now, so nothing more they could do regarding the issue would have a hope of working. They were safe, for the moment.

The car passed through the shadow of one of the taller buildings, the early morning sun stretching it to way beyond the buildings true length. Angel took the opportunity to pull his coat back a bit and studied the scene in the side mirror that Gunn hadn't bothered to properly adjust. His own reflection absent, he was able to get a good view of the backseat without giving himself away.

Cordelia was huddled against the door, staring nonchalantly out of the window. The tears slipped silently down her face now, and she was lost in her own grief, numbed to the outside world by her pain. Her hands were curled awkwardly on her lap, the dried blood not even registering to her anymore. She was present in body, but not in spirit, leaving behind a shell that matched the theme of the car, her mind wandering off to somewhere that no one else could go. Wherever she was, it was obviously far more appealing to her than the real world, or was helping her to cope with cruel reality.

Lindsey was on the other side of the car, behind Gunn, still in a world of his own. He frowned down at his hands, wringing them continually in some kind of attempt at constancy. Angel recalled seeing such behaviour before, often in people recovering from emotional shock. It was like they needed something to concentrate on to convince themselves that things were in their control, to reassure themselves through uncertainty. Angel guessed that whatever Lindsey had been through before now, it had been traumatic. Being blown across a room and then dragged through a building teeming with people who wanted to kill him probably hadn't helped to improve his emotional state, unstable as he already was. What they would do with him once they got back Angel could only imagine.

Then there was Wesley. Wedged in the middle of the other two, he looked as though he was trying desperately not to let the car's movements topple him over completely. Clutching onto the seat with whitening knuckles, he was leant over slightly, his eyes flitting randomly over the floor. He looked confused, like he was sorting something out in his mind, trying to think of something to say. If Angel hadn't known better, he would have thought that he had recovered slightly from the ordeal and was preparing to explain away everything that had happened. Of course, he didn't. He was far too out of it to even care about the fact that he was still bleeding everywhere. 

The car lurched over a lump in the road and knocked everyone forward with a start. It shook Cordelia from her drift, and she turned to see Wesley gag, fighting the urge to retch. She shot daggers in Gunn's direction and put out a tender arm to rub Wesley's back, squeezing his hand in hers.

"It's OK, we're nearly there now" she soothed, drying up her tears. She was surprised when he responded to her touch, turning to look at her with distraught eyes.

"I'm so sorry...I'm sorry I killed him, I didn't mean to. I couldn't see... I lost my glasses." 

His child-like statement started Cordelia off again, and she smiled at him through her sobs. Pulling him close and stroking back his hair, she closed her eyes against the sorrow and managed a plaintive laugh.

"You didn't kill him, Wesley, it wasn't your fault. It just...happened..."

'Don't cry', she thought, 'or I'll never be able to stop.'

He shivered in her grasp and fell silent again, his too fast and shallow gasps the only indication of how he felt. Isn't that what Harris had thought? That he had hurt people again? They were both frightened of what they could do, frightened of themselves. She supposed fear was an inevitable symptom of shock, and his skin felt icy cold to the touch. He was confused again; he didn't know what he was saying. But his self-doubt reminded her too much of her demon friend, and she suspected that it was the power affecting him, not just his injury. If it were her, she'd want rid of it, and she decided that whatever had happened to block Wesley's power in the first place had done him a favour.

A distinct sense of relief swept over her when she spotted the Hyperion in the distance, and she made an effort to slow her breathing and calm down. Crying wouldn't solve anything, and she had someone else beside herself to take care of for a change. It wouldn't do to let Angel see her like this for long. He'd never let her come along on another mission again!

What she didn't know was that Angel had watched her intently throughout the car journey and had come to a different conclusion. She was stronger than he'd given her credit for, and had saved their asses back there, even if she didn't realise it yet. As for Harris, she'd trusted him and seen his potential where no one else had. She'd given him the chance to achieve atonement, a rare thing, if Angel knew anything about it. 

He looked over at Gunn to direct him to a shadier parking spot than usual, and noticed his stiff face. He wasn't deaf. He had heard everything that was said, and he was trying desperately not to show that it had affected him, staring rigidly ahead and concentrating on driving. Angel saw through his hardened exterior, though, and felt relieved that he wasn't the only one to have been moved. He didn't want to seem like a great big soft touch or anything.

It seemed that Gunn didn't need any guiding, and he found the perfect place to stop just round the corner. Anxious not to hang around for too long and push his luck, Angel helped Cordelia and then Wesley out of the car, encouraging him to get on his feet again with the promise of a lie down when they got inside.

Gunn pulled Lindsey out with a little less compassion and nodded at the abandoned vehicle before Angel scurried away with his ward. 

"What are we gonna do with that? We did kinda steal it, y'know."

"We'll worry about that later. As for stealing it, I shouldn't let it worry your morality, Gunn. It belonged to a Wolfram and Hart lawyer."

Gunn took Angel's point and smiled slightly at the thought. No doubt dirty money had been used to buy it anyway, and its owner could afford a new one. Theft was unethical, sure, but this was sweet justice. He shrugged it off and followed the others inside, pushing Lindsey along in front of him.

* * *

Lilah had seen it all.

Employees had come and gone from this place without so much as a blink of an eye from anyone. And when she said gone, no one doubted that she meant shot, burnt, decapitated, pushed from a building, car crash, murder, 'suicide', 'accidental death', whatever. Nobody walked away from Wolfram and Hart. There was no such thing as a honourable discharge or dismissal. When you got fired, it was taken literally. This was for life, and that's exactly what they took from you.

She'd been in this position before, trembling with fear before the result of her competition with Lindsey was announced. Terrified for her life when she knew she had displeased the senior partners, maybe failing in one of her endeavours or messing up some task or other. It's just that, then, she'd always had something to fall back on. Someone else to blame if the worst came to the worst. Only this time, it was all her fault. She had made the mistake, and everything had been her own idea. There was no wriggling out of this one and she knew it.

So, when she had come up against the criticism of the senior partners for this particular slip up, she hadn't been completely unprepared for their reaction. 

Pain. Oh, she knew it well. Anything in the line of duty, right? Her 'punishment' had been swift after she had been shown the full extent of her inadequacy, courtesy of video surveillance footage. The escape of her captives, the loss of a valuable and powerful individual on which many expensive resources had been spent, the death of a very highly paid employee and the failure to turn their target. All they had to show for their efforts was one dead Neshtu demon and a large damages bill.

Is if to rub salt into the wound, Lilah had been informed of the company's next intended move and told that she would be required to play no part in it whatsoever. Not that she'd be in any fit state to for a while yet anyway.

On her way down to the garage in the elevator, she considered herself lucky to have escaped with her life. She put that down to her otherwise spotless record and her position in the firm. 

She sighed to the walls and the scuffmarks still autographed there as if to remind her, mocking her. She looked down at her shaking hands, the pain still present despite the several painkillers she had already downed. Who needed real finger nails anyway? She knew a good manicurist who could...

Oh, who was she kidding? Sometimes her job really sucked.

And the worst part of it was that she would have to risk another 'conditioning' in order to save her skin, this time by going behind the company's back and meeting with the enemy. Could her day get any worse? Apparently it could.

The doors slid open with a jerk, protesting at their earlier maltreatment. Lilah stepped out with only a discrete limp and was greeted with something she hadn't counted on before now, when it seemed glaringly obvious and suitably ironic.

"I don't believe this", she groaned, "Where's my car?"

PART 13.

 

Lorne glanced at his watch and tapped a rhythm on the counter. 

He was going to miss his facial appointment if the little bunch of troopers didn't show up soon. Still, he supposed that if the whole lot of them had gone out on another happy clappy daytrip already it must mean good news. Heck, he'd only shown up to wish a quick get-well-soon to keep up appearances. It wasn't that he didn't care; it's just that he was getting tired of always having to be the nice and friendly one. When was the last time anyone came by to ask him how his day had been?

Right, that's it. Leaving. Now.

Oh, maybe just a few more minutes, then. How could anyone stay angry at those cutie pies for long? Besides, he really did want to know what was happening. He'd gotten a good look inside that guy's head, and some of it wasn't pretty. Sigh. He worried too much.

Something pulled up close to the entrance and the sound of closing car doors rattled through the entrance glasswork.

It's about time. They're here at last.

The main lobby door made the usual quiet squeak as it opened, and a rather bedraggled Cordelia stepped through, holding it in place and sniffing back tears. The wave of grief and sorrow that swept over Lorne was almost enough to bowl him off his feet, and it took him a second or two to recover his senses and realise who else was contributing to it.

A flustered looking Angel shuffled his way in, practically radiating misplaced guilt and protective concern. His face showing nothing but grim determination, however, he was carefully guiding Wesley down the steps, holding him up when he stumbled. Wesley was in a very bad way, worse than earlier, by all accounts. Lorne didn't need to be psychic to know that something very bad had gone down, and he was grateful that he hadn't been there to see it.

"What in the name of all that is holy happened here? I leave you guys alone for five minutes and this is what you do to yourselves. And, by the way, try locking your doors, people. Anyone could just walk right in here and start redecorating or something, and we wouldn't want that."

Lorne's sarcasm didn't seem to be getting him noticed much, so he put a lid on it and waited for an explanation to appear. Maybe now wasn't quite the time for morale boosting. He stuck his hands in his bright red jacket pockets and watched as the door was pushed open again and the last of the party entered.

"OK, so there are a couple of steps now", Gunn patronised, "Take it real easy."

His charge didn't respond but allowed himself to be led down and into the hotel without so much as a flicker over his face.

"Well, if it isn't Lindsey! Hi there buddy, how's it goin'? Long time no see."

Gunn gave Lorne a warning look that told him now wasn't the time. He didn't push it and remained leant against the counter, wondering just what kind of evil fiend had put an anti-hospitality spell over them all. Talk about feeling unwelcome.

Angel had set Wesley down on the sofa, and Cordelia came hurrying across, the first aid kit under her arm. She set about patching up his head, holding thick bandages on and managing to finally stop the bleeding.

"What kind of big, slimy demon did that then?" Lorne asked, trying to persuade them to talk.

"That would be me", Angel answered, matter-of-factly, moving across the room to find a vacant space to pace. It wasn't the answer Lorne had expected, but, from the look on Angel's face, he decided it best not to ask him to elaborate.

Cordelia moved on to cleaning up some of the nastier injuries on Wesley's face, despite the added difficulty that he was slowly fighting a losing battle against unconsciousness.

"Just let me finish this and then you can go to sleep, OK?" Cordelia encouraged, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. She was no expert, and she was unsure of just how to deal with the situation by herself. She knew the symptoms of shock when she saw them, and she worried that she couldn't tell if it was serious enough to present a danger. 

"He needs to go to the hospital", she stated suddenly, irritated by Angel's detached attitude, "He needs to see a doctor." She for one did not want to risk another life threatening situation, and the phrase 'better to be safe than sorry' kept wriggling across her mind.

Angel shook his head. "No, we're safer here. He'll be fine."

Something clicked inside her brain, and Cordelia was unable to hold back her anger anymore. The next stage of grief it may be, but she wasn't going to let Angel speak to her like that, like her opinion didn't count and that he knew better than anyone.

"Look at him", she snapped, "He's not fine."

The others in the room fell silent, and Lorne felt an argument coming on. With two adversaries with this calibre of personality, it could get nasty. 

Angel turned to face her and tried his best with an understanding tone of voice. From the narrowing of Cordelia's eyes, however, Lorne could see that it wasn't going to rub.

"I know it's hard", he said, "but you have to trust me when I say that I think we're all better off here. I've seen and done a lot of...things...in my time, and I can tell you now that he'll be OK. He just needs some rest, that's all."

Cordelia stood from her seat in defiance and looked Angel coldly in the eye. All the tears were gone now, and there were no more threatening to well up. This was pure rage Cordelia style, and it left no room for sentimentality.

"You weren't here the last time", she bit, knowing that it would cut. "How could you possibly know anything about it? Me and Gunn, we had to do it all on our own. Have you any idea how scary that was? To know that there's not a damn thing you can do to help and that all that's left is to watch and wait, praying that the next breath won't be the last. To watch someone slipping away right before you and..." She stopped and bit her lip, pushing thoughts of Harris out of her mind.

Angel shuffled uneasily and Cordelia allowed herself a crack of a sardonic smile for a fraction of a second that said 'duh, vampire'. Angel's reaction suggested she had caused offence, and the disapproving frown returned to her face.

"I guess maybe you do know a little something about that. Oh, wait, except you didn't care at the time because you were enjoying it too much."

She turned and slumped back down next to Wesley, bringing her attention back to him. She felt satisfied now that she had vented a little, and chalked up a point up on her personal scoreboard. It was a terrible thing to think, she knew, and she'd feel as guilty as hell about it later, but he needed to hear it, and she had needed to clear the air.

Pretending to ignore him now, she couldn't help but feel his presence when he stepped up close behind her, balling his fists at his sides. His voice was measured under the strain of self-control, but she could still sense the growl behind it. She'd almost become accustomed to it, tuned in. They'd had enough arguments for her to recognise when he was truly hurt, and when he was just frustrated at her.

"We're not leaving here and that's final."

"Yeah? Well, since you're suddenly the new boss, give me one good reason why not?" 

"I can give you two, actually. Firstly, I don't think taking Wesley anywhere where there's a lot of people and unsettling situations is such a good idea right now, and secondly, I don't think this is over. Call me overly suspicious, but I don't think Wolfram and Hart are going to let us walk away just like that, do you? Any chance to set this all off again and they'd take it, especially if it involves innocent people who are too sick to run away. You want to try thinking things through before you go making speeches about things you know nothing about." 

With that, he spun on his heel and stormed his way upstairs, dragging a helpless Lindsey behind him. 

Deciding that these two were going to need some serious make up time, Gunn reluctantly followed in the hope of preventing Angel from doing something he might regret when it came to caring for the ex-lawyer, and possibly in an attempt to talk some sense into the man for reconciliation.

Lorne stood back and watched them go, being sure to give the vampire plenty of room when he brushed past. He let the atmosphere settle for a while before approaching a fuming Cordelia, not willing to have to endure the lashing of the tail end of the dispute. 

He went across and studied the pair now cuddled against the sofa, trying to think of the most appropriate things to say.

Come on Lorne, everyone knows what you're supposed to do. So whip out some of those pearls of wisdom already. 

He took a deep breath and sat down beside them.

Luckily for him, it didn't look like Wesley had heard much of what had been said, and he was happily ignorant of all the hostile vibes currently thickening around the whole hotel. Lorne felt relieved that at least he would only have to concentrate his efforts on one person for now, as that usually made the whole process a lot easier.

"I know what you're going to say, and don't", Cordelia said, before he could begin. "You're going to give me the big 'you're both angry, it's been a stressful day' lecture and I don't want to hear it."

Lorne smiled at her warmly. "OK, pumpkin, I understand. But you're right, and you know that this isn't going to help any of you right now, especially Wesley here. If you did want my advice, and I know that you don't, I'd say you need to cool it for a little while, just until this is cleared up. I haven't heard the full story yet, but I'm guessing it hasn't been jello and ice cream for any of you. And judging from the serious mystical vibes practically leaking from over here", (he nodded in Wesley's direction), "I'm guessing it ain't gonna go away all that quickly either."

Cordelia fidgeted and curled some hair around her finger with a pout. Lorne softened his tone and lowered his head to where she had no choice but to look at him. 

"I don't need you to sing to tell that you guys have some unsolved issues, but I also know that you care about each other, and that, deep down, you don't really mean any of it. It's good to get them out in the open, sweetheart, cuz pent up feelings are never a good thing, but why don't you try the soul searching and verbal bitch slapping some other time?"

Cordelia relented in her stony faced expression and gave Lorne a weak smile. She knew he'd make her listen whether she wanted to or not, so it was useless to try and resist. She decided against sitting there and feeling bitter towards Angel and got on with doing something useful.

"Can you go and fetch some water or something?" she asked Lorne in a much more amiable tone of voice. "If we have to stay here then Wesley needs to drink something. Something to do with extra fluids, I think. Oh, and grab that blanket over there. We have to keep him warm."

Lorne got to his feet with a grin. "I thought you'd never ask. I was getting worried that Wesley was going to have to get up and sort things out for himself!"

Cordelia blushed a little and put on a sheepish smile, annoyed all over again that her annoyance was being sucked away by the great big happy black hole that was The Host. Just when she really wanted to be angry with someone, he had to come along and spoil it all. She guessed that anger really wasn't going to bring Harris back after all, and she'd just have to deal with it. That didn't mean that Angel was 100% forgiven or anything though. He could have the silent treatment for a little while yet.

* * *

Having stomped up the staircase under a veritable storm cloud of bad feeling, Angel had proceeded to find Lindsey a spare room and had automatically begun cleaning him up with a mechanical indifference that spoke volumes to Gunn, the onlooker.

Gunn suspected that Angel was using this as a chance to sulk, slipping comfortably into brood mode in a transition that startled Gunn in the way that it just seemed so normal. On any other day, finding Angel in this silent state wouldn't have seemed odd in the slightest, and Gunn worried that he had used his habitual periods of withdrawal for this kind of purpose a little too often. No one noticed when he got upset about anything, because this is how he acted. It was a cover he used to shrug the things that bothered him off and close himself off to everyone else. Wasn't that how the whole Darla thing had started? Dwelling on bad feelings was a big nono when it came to Angel; they had all learnt that the hard way. 

Granted, this was nowhere near as serious as that, but Gunn didn't want to let this go on unchecked, or it would be all the harder to repair the damage done in the meantime. He may not have known Cordelia for as long as Angel or Wesley, but he knew enough to guess that she wasn't the quick to apologise type. In her mind, Angel was in the wrong, and she'd hear nothing in his favour until he made some attempt to appease her.

This little argument wasn't just about what had happened today. It had touched on things they had all tried to bury since Angel's return to them, so it wasn't going to be easy. Old wounds that had never quite healed were being picked over and the shaky truce had been questioned. Even if they ended this with kisses and hugs, the after-effects would linger on, and Angel seemed to know it. He had been woken from the pretence that everything was back to normal and the same as it was before, and he obviously felt the need to rethink a few things.

Gunn had managed to summon up enough courage to speak by now, and he prepared himself for the harsh words he would receive for his efforts.

"You know she didn't really mean what she said, right?" OK, maybe a small lie at first, just to get him talking. Brace yourself.

Nothing. Angel ignored him.

Wow, now that he thought about it, not getting a reaction was worse than anything else he could have done. Should he leave it at that or go on? Urrgg, the indecision. Just how does Lorne do this for a living?

Not one for giving in without a fight, Gunn moved a bit closer for nag number two, only to pause when he noticed Angel tense up his back and slow down with his 'nursing'. Nervous that he had gone too far and that he had set Angel off on a shouting rant, Gunn waited to be told to get out. Instead, he turned his attention to the closed door when he heard what must have been Cordelia and Lorne make their way past with Wesley. When the noise died down along the corridor and he turned back, he saw that Angel had resumed his work with renewed force and roughness.

Grudgingly concerned for Lindsey's welfare, Gunn intervened, stopping Angel's actions with a gentle hand.

"Hey, why don't you let me do that?"

To his surprise, Angel put up no resistance and moved away, obviously accepting Gunn's good intentions. Lindsey didn't seem to care either way, staring straight ahead, as ever, with barely a blink. Despite having his face scrubbed clean and the cuts and scrapes tended, he still looked ill and like he hadn't seen a good meal in a while. Gunn wondered how long Wolfram and Hart had kept him like this, and what else they had done to him.

Angel sat on the end of the bed and scrutinised the wall opposite with eyes that would have withered any healthy pot plant unfortunate enough to exist within his plane of vision. Gunn frowned at him and shook his head as he moved on to Lindsey's hands. They had been badly injured during the fight, being used with a strength that was not Lindsey's own. Noticing some blood soaking through his shirt, Gunn examined a cut on Lindsey's arm that had managed to inscribe itself there sometime during the struggle. 

Cleaning and binding it tightly, Gunn decided not to explore some of the other bruises and grazes that were revealing themselves when the clothing was pushed back, guessing that he probably wouldn't like what he found. He doubted that Lindsey would appreciate such intrusion anyway, and as he didn't appear to be suffering, he let it be.

Gunn swung Lindsey's legs up onto the bed and left him to stare himself to sleep. He didn't relish the idea of baby-sitting, and made a move for the door, motioning for Angel to follow. They were going to have that heart to heart talk whether he wanted it or not. Hiding from Cordelia up here wasn't going to do him any good, and Gunn was determined to nip this little feud in the bud.

"Come on Angel, let's go get you some blood. You look like you could use it." 

For some reason that Gunn would rather not think about, the mention of food perked Angel up, and he silently consented, rising from his seat with purpose. 

Despite the fact that he was running the risk of bumping into Cordelia on his way down, Angel was eager to get back down the lobby where he could keep an eye on the door. He couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling that something wasn't quite right, and that maybe complacency wasn't such a good idea just yet. Besides, he hadn't eaten for a while, and the events of the day had exhausted him. If he couldn't sleep, he could at least regain a little energy to liven himself up.

Without a second thought, he and Gunn left Lindsey alone in his room, closing the door behind them.

* * *

With Lorne's help, Cordelia had managed to get Wesley up to his room without too much trouble. To her relief, they had avoided another confrontation with Angel, and she was able to relax a little in the comparative safety of the second floor. 

Wesley was sleeping soundly now, no doubt recovering from the day's events and the slight blood loss. Yawning widely, it was only when there was nothing pressing left to worry about that Cordelia realised just how tired she was. Lorne must have noticed it too, and he offered to stay with her and watch over them both as she got some rest.

She didn't refuse, and snuggled down on the duvet next to Wesley gratefully. She didn't want to think. Not about Harris, not about Angel, not even about Wesley anymore. She just wanted to shut her mind down and drift away, if only for a short while. It had all been too much for her, overwhelming her senses. She was weary, of body and of soul. But everything would be better later. It always was, wasn't it? If only she could just close her eyes...

She didn't realise just how easy it was for her to fall asleep. Before she knew it, she was lost in her own pleasant dream world, not even having time to thank Lorne for giving up his time. 

Lorne watched her sleep, her breathing becoming deep and steady almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. He wanted to smile and feel content with the scene of peace before him. There always was something endearing about people when they were asleep. Their auras were at rest with them, and he had the chance to indulge his demon senses in little light reading. He could never see much, at least not compared to when people sang for him, but he got the occasional sneaky peek at some of their deepest thoughts, usually of something psychiatrists would call the inner-child. Sleep exposed an innocence that he found reassuring. It proved that even the most hardened individual had hope of salvation, and that mankind wasn't always as full of suffering and cruelty as it often seemed to be.

Lorne felt it and was pleased at what he saw. They were good people, and he hoped for great things to come. But he still couldn't feel completely at ease. Something was yet to come, he had seen as much on the night he was brought here to bring Wesley back from the dark. It unnerved him by the way he couldn't say for sure exactly what it was. Sometimes when he read people, he would pick up vague fragments of the bigger picture that left him unsure of how to interpret them. Of course, he would never mention aspects to his costumers that he could not understand himself. He would often tell them the things they wanted to hear without revealing too much. 

It had been different this time, though. He had been loath to say much at all, knowing that the consequences would be dire. He'd had a niggling feeling when he'd left the other night, but now that he'd returned, seeing what had already transpired had refreshed his memory. He remembered everything he had seen, and he knew that there was more to tell. Something was coming, at this very moment; a messenger of bad news was on its way. It was the fate of every person in this building to be a part of the coming...whatever it was.

He worried for them, knowing that something like this was the last thing they needed right now. He had argued with himself about whether he should have said something, even though he wasn't sure himself what it was they needed to fear. Seeing them all in such a state had persuaded him against the idea, and for now, he would let them sleep. They would need it.

PART 14.

 

The shaky little boy made his way slowly down the thickly carpeted hallway, towards the study, with all the eagerness of a convicted criminal being led to the noose. A book of Latin under his arm and a small, brown envelope in the other hand, he hesitated at the ornately carved and stained oak wood door rising menacingly before him.

Father would be at his desk working, no doubt. Whenever he was in there, the whole house took on a respectful hush, no one daring to disturb him. The room itself was more like an office, absorbing none of the cosy atmosphere from the rest of the house. It was like the man sucked all of the life out of it by just being present.

He dreaded that room and everything it represented. He held a kind of fearful reverence for it, like every school child did for the teacher's staff room. You never went in unbidden, and God forbid that you should ever be found taking a sneaky look inside. He knew better than that. Besides, if he never saw the inside of that horrid, dark and dingy abomination of a room again, it would be too soon. He'd only ever been inside once or twice, and the result was never good.

He had been summoned here not long after he had arrived home, and he knew with a sinking a heart that the message he held in his hand was not good news. The headmaster was instructed to keep a close eye on him, and his father always asked for even the most trivial of matters to be brought to his attention when it concerned his son. It may only be a small note, but this report could contain everything needed to ensure a sound beating in only a few words.

After all, father must already suspect, or else you wouldn't be standing here now, would you?

He stared intently at the twisting patterns of some plant or other, and tried desperately to remember what was expected of him. He should know the drill by now. Summoning up the courage at last, he knocked timidly on the wood, producing a dull and hollow clunk that echoed through his entire being.

"Yes."

Not 'come in' or 'who is it', even. Just that empty, formal word. He swallowed hard and reached for the brass handle, convincing himself that he couldn't possibly have heard a tone of displeasure in that short answer from so far away. At least, he hoped.

The heavy door finally gave way to his struggles, and he hastily turned to push it shut again. Needing all his strength to lean against it, he had to use both arms to make it move. Big mistake.

His book slipped treacherously from his grasp and fell to the floor open, creasing the pages.

"Stupid boy!" his father spat, obviously in a foul mood. "Why are you always dropping things like some clumsy oaf? Pick it up at once!"

He obliged, his trembling hands making a meal of the pages when he tried to smooth them shut. 

Too late for that now, you've already made him mad.

He approached the desk and handed his father the note when he motioned for it. He stood in silence as it was read, imagining all of the things he could have possibly done wrong this time, and praying for some miraculous turn of fate that would allow him to melt into the floor and never be seen again.

His father eyed him coldly, then took his book and laid it open in front of him, studying the work inside. 

"What's the matter, boy, don't you like your schooling?"

No.

"Yes, sir."

"It says in this letter that you've not been paying attention in your Latin classes of late. I see here that your work standard is slipping yet again, and yet you still stand there and lie to me. Well? Do you deny it?"

How could he possible explain? For some irrational reason, he always struggled more with Latin than he did with any other subject, even though he excelled in all kinds of demonic tongues. And it wasn't that he didn't pay attention, he had just been distracted lately. 

Had he not been so terrified, he would have smiled bitterly at the irony of this situation. He knew full well which incident had been referred to in said letter. He had been unwell that day, due to the turn he had taken after he had helped his father perform a spell, and the following 'disciplinary correction' it had resulted in. No one had noticed the bruises, thankfully, but he had found it harder to concentrate than usual, especially through his discomfort. 

"Answer, boy!"

"N-no, sir, I-I..."

He received a classic 'clip round the ear', one of his father's favourites.

"Stop that stuttering, you sound like an illiterate idiot. Of course, that's probably not far off the mark, is it? Look at the state of this work! You call that Latin? I've seen half-witted beasts do better."

Not quite believing his eyes, the boy watched as his father tore pages from his book and ripped them into pieces in front of him.

"You will do all of it again, do you hear? And don't even think about coming down from your room until it's done. As for your meal with the rest of the family, you skip it for tonight. You do not eat at my table until you are worthy of the food I work hard to put in front of you. No son of mine is to fall behind in his class..."

The man reached down and opened a drawer, pulling something out that the boy did not even see. He was too frightened to take his eyes away from the remains of two months worth of study lying in shreds at his feet.

"Hold out your hands. I don't suppose your trainers ever administer the appropriate punishment, not like in my day. In which case, it's up to me."

* Thwack *

Six inches worth of cane snapped across his palm and crippled his fingers with a burning so fierce that he thought he had lost them all together. He groaned through clenched teeth but kept his hands in place, knowing the penalty for cowardice only too well. It wouldn't have been so bad, had he not known that this was only for starters. 

He couldn't help the widening of his eyes and his erratic trembling as his father rose from his seat and towered over him with intent...

* * *

Cordelia had woken from her fitful sleep to discover that Lorne had gotten rather too comfortable in his chair, his chin now resting on his chest and his arms crossed. She smiled sleepily and wondered if she should have just told him to go home. She didn't need a baby-sitter, and she was kind of embarrassed at the thought of him sitting there watching her when she slept. She hoped she hadn't spoken out or done anything too dorky, and checked the pillow for drool, just to be sure. So far so good.

Rolling over to stretch and get more comfortable on the inconveniently soft and saggy old bed, she collided face first with Wesley's shoulder, bashing her teeth against the inside of her mouth. She recoiled immediately as her fuzzy mind screamed warnings at her, along the lines of 'That shouldn't be there! Attack!'

Her hand shot up in sympathy of her bleeding lip, and she stifled a shriek. Realising the stupidity of what she had done, she forced her buzzing nerves to settle and took a calming breath. But ow, it still hurt.

Wesley had turned over almost onto his front and was now facing her. If she had been a bit taller, she would have landed her head-butt right on his nose instead of where his arm was stuck crookedly to the side. He looked decidedly squashed, curled up with his knees pulled to his chest and the blanket Cordelia had wrapped him in earlier stuffed randomly round his neck. 

She smiled in gratitude that at least someone else in the room was a messier sleeper than she was. It faded when she saw his face and considered the reason for the movement that had taken place. He didn't look rested in the slightest, and although he had regained some of his colour, there was a greyness to his skin that suggested he was far from happy. Forgetting her own trouble for the moment, she put a hand against his forehead and cringed at the touch. Clammy and cold, the contact did not reassure her. 

She snatched her hand away when he murmured and stirred, his face taking on the look of a frightened child for a split second, before relaxing again into the pitiful shadow of the man she knew, tormented by his dreams. 

A nightmare, she should have known. But not for long, if she had anything to do with it. She couldn't remember the amount of times she had hoped for a rescuer, every time that demon chased her, getting closer and closer for all of her futile running, hideous fangs preparing to sink into her flesh...

Wanting to shake him for all she was worth, Cordelia practised a little self-restraint and gently nudged Wesley's arm, avoiding the parts that she knew she had had to bandage previously. As she had predicted, it didn't take much to bring him back to reality, and she shuffled back quickly, before he saw just how close she had been to him when he'd been unable to protest. For some reason, it felt wrong, like she had taken advantage of him or something. She guessed that she was just concerned for his sense of masculinity. I mean, being weak and helpless, not to mention completely dependant on someone else, it probably knocked your self-esteem a bit. She didn't want it to seem like she had had to coddle him or anything. That would be too weird for him to have to handle right now, not to mention awkward for them both when it came to explaining.

Opening his eyes carefully, it looked like he expected to find something mortifyingly unpleasant next to him. He frowned when he saw nothing but unfashionably wrinkled and creased clothing, and slowly moved his eyes up to discover the owner. 

Cordelia felt a nervous twinge seize her expression as she realised that she didn't know what to say. Wesley stared at her and blinked, unsure. There were so many things that needed explaining, but she couldn't think where to start. "Hey", was all she could manage for the moment, looking down on him with concerned eyes. Knowing that perhaps she wasn't the best person in the world when it came to her ability to console, she hoped that his reaction wouldn't be too extreme, and that she could handle it with some tact. Well, you can but try.

When realisation dawned, Wesley blushed violently and took his eyes from her gaze, an ashamed look on his face. He hurriedly sat up and wrenched the tangled sheets from around him, flinching when he accidentally brushed one or two of his more memorable keepsakes, care of Wolfram and Hart. Surrendering to the pain and feeling slightly nauseous from the tang of antiseptic clogging the air, he leant back and sat still, silently cursing his weakness for preventing him from escaping.

He desperately wanted to disappear so that he wouldn't have to face Cordelia's questioning looks, and the blame that was to come. He didn't think he could find any words that would sufficiently cover everything he felt, even though nothing he could ever say would be appropriate in this situation. As far as he was concerned, he didn't deserve the right to explain; his actions had said it all. That left him with only one pathetic option. Forcing himself to look at her, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't you dare!" Cordelia interrupted, recognising his attempted at apology.

Wesley blinked in surprise and frowned, waiting for her to continue. This certainly wasn't what he had expected.

"Wow, I know you so well, it's actually disturbing. And don't look at me like that; I know what you were going to say. It really bugs me sometimes, actually. You don't have to be sorry for everything, all the bad things that happen are not always your fault, I mean, OK, so maybe the majority, but..."

"What about Lilah? Is-is s-she, did I..."

"Oh, she's totally not dead. You can thank yours truly for that." She smiled at him when he relaxed significantly, like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She almost thought he might smile with relief, but he caught himself, probably thinking it entirely inappropriate.

"I really am sorry, you know, about Harris. I didn't mean for any of that to happen."

Cordelia's smile faded somewhat and she looked at him sadly.

"I know. None of us did. We couldn't have known, and we weren't just going to leave you there, we had no choice."

Wesley shifted in the uncomfortable silence that followed and looked around his room. With a sudden frown of confusion, he turned back to Cordelia and put a hand on her arm to get her attention.

"How did we get here?" he whispered.

* * *

Cordelia had explained all the sordid details to him of their escape and, with added enthusiasm, he noted, of Harris' help when it came to getting up to Lilah's office in the first place.

He didn't remember the majority of it, and certainly nothing from when he was under the influence of the eyeless demon. Apparently, Lindsey had been there, and they had brought him back to the hotel with them. He couldn't think how he had missed that, but obviously he had.

When it came to his turn to explain, he felt it best to skip the majority of the details and reported a brief and general account of what had happened to him, covering up some of the more awkward points with the claim that he couldn't recall the specifics. Cordelia seemed to buy it, but he knew he'd have a more difficult job when it came to Angel. He was never a very good liar, and Angelus had been a master of deceit.

It wasn't for any sinister reason that he wanted to withhold the truth, it was just that he could already guess the avenue that would take him down, and it was one he didn't want to walk just yet, even with his closest of friends.

Cordelia yawned again, for what must have been the fifth time, but continued to pretend that she was paying attention to everything he had to say. He could see the fatigue weighing heavy on her, even as she fought to stay alert. It wouldn't be long before she started to nod, no matter how many times she insisted she was fine.

"Where's Angel?" he asked, intending to suggest that he take over from Cordelia for the watching duty they seemed to have assigned themselves on his behalf.

Cordelia's expression became unintentionally harsh, and she sat up again in a show of defiance.

"I don't know and I don't care right now. He's the one that did that to you, y'know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

Wesley looked her over with suspicion as she nestled back down into the bed, turning away to hide her feelings on the subject. He started when Lorne spoke up, having woken without them noticing.

"Cordy and Angel had a little disagreement earlier. Let's just say they had 'words', and that now they need to kiss and make up before the entire building collapses under the weight of all the bad karma they're giving off between them."

"What were you arguing about?" Wesley asked, addressing Cordelia again.

You.

"It doesn't matter", she replied, "I don't want to talk about it. Just go back to sleep."

With that, she closed her eyes, making it quite clear that the conversation had ended. Lorne got up from his chair, extending his arms as far above his head as his jacket would allow, and prepared to leave, knowing only too well when not to out stay his welcome.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll be on my merry way. This place is humming way too much for a poor sensitive demon such as myself. I'm telling ya, there are some serious vibes flitting around. I just had the strangest dream just now about this little kid, and boy, was it disturbing..." Lorne's light chuckle fizzled out when he caught the look on Wesley's face, and something clicked in his mind. Not wanting to say too much and regret it later, he quickly made his retreat, telling Wesley and a now semi-conscious Cordelia that he would take his leave of Angel before he went.

Wesley watched him go and stubbornly dismissed what he had just said. It was far too unsettling a prospect. He looked down at Cordelia as she slumbered and decided to do something about her and Angel's strained relationship. He had been out of it for long enough this last couple of days, and he was unwilling to go back to the place he had only just escaped. He couldn't have slept now if he had tried.

Moving carefully so as not to give himself away, he swung his legs round and got to his feet, despite the ache. The wave of dizziness passed, and he felt much better for getting out of the stuffy little room and into the comparatively fresher air of the corridor. With a quick glimpse behind him to check he hadn't disturbed Cordelia, he made his way to the stairs to find Angel, taking it one step at a time.

* * *

Sat alone, finally, in the office, Angel leant back in his chair and sighed. This was just the way he liked it. He had a chance to think at last. This one would take a lot processing before he could come up with an answer, but it would be worth it in the end. If only he could be left alone for more than one minute at a time... 

He heard the lobby door open and groaned his annoyance in despair. Don't these people ever stop? He wished he had put up a 'closed' sign or something, just to keep people away for now. They never got walk in cases very often, but sods law dictated that if they were busy, hundreds of people would demand their services at once.

He lifted himself up and dragged himself out, thinking up the best possible excuse he could use to make whoever it was come back tomorrow. If it wasn't urgent, he didn't care.

"We're not -" He stopped when he rounded the corner and clamped eyes on Lilah standing in the middle of the floor, a fake cockiness about her. He was about to rush forward and grab her when she stepped forward herself, putting up a hand and commanding him to stop. 

"Look, we both now I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to be, so there's no need for the macho display. I'm trying to do you a favour."

Angel gave her the benefit of the doubt, slightly unnerved by her apparent confidence. He knew better, though, of course. He could smell the fear on her, as well as pain, and was that blood? He couldn't detect any other beings in the vicinity, and she didn't seem to be much of a threat, so he stayed where he was, allowing her to stop a short distance from him, just beyond grabbing distance. He could have sworn that he saw her hobble a bit, and he finally noticed the leather gloves on her hands.

"Is it cold out?" he quipped, keeping his face deadly serious and leaning against the doorjamb with his arms crossed defensively across his chest. She ignored his comment and tried to stare him down, matching the frostiness in his eyes. 

And that's the moment fate chose to make things a bit more interesting. It always did have a cruel sense of humour, Angel thought afterwards.

Locked in his battle of the wills with Lilah, Angel hadn't noticed the footsteps approaching from the top of the stairs. He turned his head to look too late to see Wesley carefully walking down, all his attention focused on the step in front so as not to trip.

"Angel? Are you down here? I just wanted to -"

He stopped dead when he saw Lilah, and his face fell. She looked back at him indifferently, and Angel stepped forward into view.

"Wesley..." he started, worried about what might happen.

Wesley didn't look at him, his mouth working soundlessly in an attempt to say something. He couldn't find any words, and looked at his feet instead, a confused expression on his face as he searched for what to do next. Everything that had happened raced through his mind at once, and he panicked at the thought of what he could do. He turned abruptly and retreated back the way he had come.

Angel growled in anger and stepped forward, wrapping his hand round Lilah's neck before she could make a sound in her defence. 

"Was there something you wanted, Lilah, or should I just break your neck now? You'd better pray that you have a good excuse for being here, or things could get real nasty..."

PART 15.

 

Lilah's gloved hands crept up to Angel's muscled arms in silent defiance, but she kept her composure and waited patiently for him to release her. The detachment in her eyes and stern determination in her stance told Angel that she had probably expected such a move, and his seething attitude suddenly felt extreme. He made a conscious effort to suppress his anger and relaxed his grip slightly so that she could breathe. 

Not letting the chance go to waste, Lilah gulped in air and forced a bitter smile.

"Come on, Angel, we both know that you're not going to kill me. Wouldn't that defeat the point of your noble little operation?"

Angel reluctantly let her go; reminding himself that if Wesley could do it, so could he. She reinforced her confident front, brushing herself down and straightening up. But Angel's vampire senses didn't lie. She was still terrified. 

"Start talking, Lilah, before I throw you out."

She rubbed her neck for a moment, as if to make a point, and flicked her hair back behind her ear. She was going to take her time, damn it. She hadn't endured the entire journey here in some sleazy excuse for a cab just to have Angel tell her to sling her hook. Lilah Morgan was hardened, a player, someone to be reckoned with. She was a natural born leader, and she took this from no one.

"Cut the intimidation crap, Angel, I came here to talk and that's exactly what I intend to do, whether you threaten me or not. Do you think I just popped round for a quick social call? Please, don't flatter yourself. I've got better things to do than wasting precious time and breath gloating to you. This is important, otherwise I wouldn't bother gracing you with my presence."

Angel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms again, but refrained from tapping his foot. If physical violence was out of the window, at least he could still be childish. A guy's gotta vent somehow. 

"Bored now, Lilah."

"Look, you made it clear the last time we met, and as much as I like to see you suffer, I wanted to clear myself in advance for the sake of my much treasured neck. I came to warn you. The next little adventure you find yourself mixed up in..."

She laid a hand on her chest and shot a dramatic wink.

"Not responsible."

That confirmed it then. Something else was yet to happen, he'd been right all along. Angel knew this had seemed to good to be true. Nothing was ever that easy. At least, not when Wolfram and Hart were concerned. He couldn't help the slip of his face as he considered the possibilities, and caught himself too late. Lilah hadn't missed it, and that irritating smirk was back. She was the one calling the shots in this conversation, as much as he didn't like to admit it, and she wasn't going to let him forget it.

"Yeah, you heard me," she sneered. "The firm's not finished with you yet. And before you feel the need to pump me for information, let me just say that I don't know any of the details, just that you'd better be ready when 'they' get here, whoever it is they send. Oh, and a bit of advice, between one friend and another, don't bother running. I hear that they've got special plans for this place if they find you're not in it."

The fear was beginning to leave her now. This was what she was good at, and it was making Angel nervous. He knew she wasn't lying, just as she knew he was genuinely concerned. In their lines of business, it paid to be able to sense when someone was telling the truth, or, more accurately, telling big fat twisted tales. After all, you couldn't always rely on the mind readers and psychics, could you?

As much as she was enjoying the kick she was getting out of being the bearer of bad news, she didn't much fancy sticking around to find out what Angel was going to do about it. And she was as good as dead anyway if the firm found out she was here. Lindsey may have been prepared to lose body parts in the fight against this guy, but as far as she was concerned, he just wasn't worth it. Speaking of which...

"How's my lapdog doing? I know he's here. Have you killed him yet, or are you going to wait until he snaps out of his stupor and starts turning this place upside down, looking for revenge on the person who kidnapped him from his happy existence? In case you were wondering, that was a clue. Might wanna put him out of his misery now and save yourself some trouble. Send him my love though, won't you?" 

The smugness almost becoming unbearable, Angel had to remind himself that killing humans was below him. The woman was going to suffocate in her own self-centred selfishness if she didn't come off of her high horse soon. Maybe he should knock her off of it to help her on her way, you know, in the interests of her well-being.

He didn't have to. Someone else was going to do it for him. The lobby doors swung open and Gunn waltzed in, beaming with satisfaction. He stopped short when Lilah turned to face him and brought out his long unused 'tude from its storage where he'd been saving it for special occasions. He slouched back on his heels and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. Cocking his head in her direction, he gave her a disapproving once over and curled his lip.

"What's super-witch-bitch doing here?" he asked in disgust, looking over her at Angel. "Come to finish the mind job you did on Wes?"

He stalked over to her and looked her in the eye, being sure to invade her personal space as much as was humanly possible without risking becoming infected with whatever evil disease was responsible for turning her into sadism on heels.

"Why don't ya try it with me and see what happens. And there ain't no amount of begging from Cordelia gonna save you this time. You got lucky that Wes is the decent type. So come on then. What ya waitin' for? Oh, right, you only go for nice guys. Damn. I guess that means you won't be able to do your mojo on me and then kick me when I'm down, huh? Shame."

Angel couldn't stop the grin forming against his will as he watched Gunn's outburst and the effect it was having on his favourite lawyer. Maybe she could predict and manipulate him, but she had no idea when it came to Gunn. She was up the proverbial creek without a paddle. The funniest part was that she actually believed that Gunn would lay a finger on her. He could see it in her eyes. Shaking his head, he put a rough hand on her shoulder and pulled her away before Gunn burst a blood vessel.

"Don't worry, Gunn, she was just leaving." He dragged her towards the doorway, taking an enormous amount of pleasure in the act. Just to add insult to injury, he talked over her like she wasn't there, ignoring her indignant catty remarks.

"Did you get it done?" 

Gunn's satisfied grin returned as he reported his completed task.

"Those kids didn't know what hit 'em. They couldn't believe their luck! I told 'em to take good care of it, and they said they'd put it to good use. They'll be cruisin' the streets in no time, just as soon as they've kitted it out for some dustin'. It'll be the little sister my truck never had. I wish I could be there when they drive past the firm and the poor sucker who owns it sees where it went!"

Lilah turned and glared at Gunn in disbelief, just before she was hurled over the threshold and introduced to the dirtier side of the hotel doors. Angel took Lorne's advice and locked up, just to make sure no more uninvited guests would find their way in unannounced. 

"What did she want, anyway?"

Angel walked back towards the office with his 'I'm thinking, don't talk to me' face on. What Lilah had said had unnerved him, and he was reluctant to worry the others. Intending to scurry away and brood some more, he blanked Gunn, brushing straight past him.

Gunn wasn't having any of it.

"Angel man, tell me what's going on." He grabbed Angel's arm before he could walk past and stepped in his path.

Angel looked him in the eye, a hesitant expression on his face. Gunn didn't like it one bit.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asked. Why, in all seriousness, he thought Gunn would leave it to rest if he said that, he didn't know. Maybe it would be best if he just came out with it so they would be prepared. After all, hiding stuff from his friends hadn't got him very far just lately, had it? Gunn's expectantly raised eyebrow decided it.

" She came to warn us that we're in for more trouble. I guess they kinda want revenge or something, I don't know. Doesn't look like Lilah's in on it, either. They probably want to clean up the mess she made, maybe come back for...oh God, Wesley..."

Gunn frowned and poked Angel hard in the arm. "What?"

"He sort of ran off when he saw Lilah down here..."

"Oh great," Gunn moaned, "nice move Mr. Sensitive. You'd better pray he ain't goin' off on one and smashing up the hotel. Which way'd he go? I'll go find him."

Angel pointed to the top of the staircase and Gunn followed the direction, taking two steps at a time. Snapping out of his short brain freeze, Angel made after him, intending to help in the search.

* * *

Gunn had moved fast. By the time Angel reached the first landing, he had already disappeared out of sight. Angel could hear him walking overhead, and guessed he had decided to search the floor above. Sniffing the air, he determined that Gunn had the right idea. He'd probably find Wesley before he got up there anyway, but he might need backup, just in case. 

What was this day coming to? Couldn't he even trust his own friends alone together? Still, caution may be the best policy in this case, and Wesley would understand that, right? He shook any thoughts to the contrary from his mind and placed a foot on the next step upwards. Then hesitated. Then carried on. Then stopped again.

Oh, stop being such a coward. Gunn was right, he'd have to face up to Cordelia sooner or later, and she'd want to know what was going on. She was in one of the rooms down here, he knew that much. He took an unneeded breath and strode along the hall, determined to make a stand, and probably beg for forgiveness as well. Whichever came first.

Halfway along, he slowed his pace, eventually coming to an uncomfortable halt outside one of the rooms. This one wasn't Cordelia's. It was where he had left Lindsey before he and Gunn had gone downstairs to have a manly talk about how to deal with women. Something just didn't feel right. Maybe it was because of what that poisonous Lilah woman had said, or maybe it was because he needed an excuse not to see Cordelia again, but it felt like some invisible force was making stop and take notice. Of what? The silence? What did he expect to hear, a swinging one-man party going on, or maybe manic insane laughter? He was letting his imagination run away with him. 

Still, he couldn't bring himself to walk away without taking a look inside. For all he knew, Lindsey had run off into the night, never to be seen again. It didn't hurt to check.

Quietly pushing the door open, he lingered on the threshold, peering into the dim light. For a second, he hoped that Lindsey hadn't gotten the wrong idea and thought that this room belonged to him or anything; otherwise he would need an invitation. His doubts proved unfounded, however, and he stepped in, only to discover that the bed was empty. He froze, a hundred and one thoughts flying through his mind at once, only to be physically knocked from his panic.

Something long and hard swung at him from behind the opened door, connecting with the side of his head and spinning him to the side, and landing against the wall with a crash. Blinking away the spots dancing before his eyes, he looked up to see Lindsey emerge from his hiding place and loom above him, the rail from the wardrobe in his hands. 

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!" he yelled, the metal pole poised menacingly above the dark huddled mass before him.

Angel pulled himself up slowly, his hand searching the wall at his back for the light switch. Finding it where it should be, he flicked it on, startling Lindsey and forcing him to squint against the sudden brightness. Trying to appear non-threatening, Angel remained still and waited for his next move, wanting to judge the situation correctly. 

Lindsey blinked at him in recognition and took a step back, the newfound light revealing his captor for the first time.

"Angel?" he asked, as though it was the last thing he had expected. He looked confused and very suspicious, which Angel could understand, considering the circumstances. 

Angel raised his hands in submission, edging forward from the confining wall.

"Lindsey, I know what you're thinking, but just let me explain, OK?"

He didn't seem to buy it, and took another step backwards, clutching his only defence warily. 

"What's going on here? Is this Lilah's idea of some kind of sick joke? And don't come any closer already..."

"OK, OK, just, take it easy..." 

Angel watched Lindsey carefully, trying to read his body language. His eyes were darting round the room with fear, scanning for the trick that he expected to arrive. Angel didn't want him to take off, but the knew he was going to lose this battle if he didn't do something about it now.

"Your arm, it's bleeding. Are you hurt?" he asked, indicating to the slowly spreading red patch trickling down his sleeve. Lindsey took a quick glance and snapped his head back up, narrowing his eyes in question.

"What do you care?" he hissed, not believing this vampire's good intentions for a second. Angel changed his tactics, preying on the amnesia currently causing him all the trouble.

"Enough to have found some of your other cuts before now. Who do you think put those bandages on your face there? You know, the ones you've kinda rudely ripped off after all my hard work."

Doubt passed over the man's features for a second, and he lowered his arms just slightly. Angel seized the opportunity and continued whilst he had the upper hand.

"Look, you're confused and scared, but don't you think that if I had wanted to kill you that I'd have done it by now? Come on, Lindsey. Even you know that thing you've got wouldn't hold me off for long. So why don't you just give it to me and we'll take this real slow..."

Angel advanced again, holding out a hopeful hand and smiling with the best 'I'm friendly' smile he could manage. He briefly wondered what he would have done in the same situation, and then decided he didn't like the answer. Oh well, no time to back out now.

Lindsey stared at Angel's outstretched arm like it was a venomous snake waiting to strike. His own arms trembled, reducing the image he was trying to project to a pitiful attempt at something resembling 'intimidating'. All he wanted was answers, was that too much to ask? The huge, black, gaping hole in his mind where three weeks of life should have been needed filling, and he would do anything to fit the pieces back into place. If Angel could help him do that, then so be it. He didn't have anything else to lose, so he might as well put himself at the mercy of a once hated enemy who happens to be a vampire. Ha, isn't life a bowl of cherries?

Angel was surprised and relieved at the same time when Lindsey allowed him to take the pole out of his hands and place it a safe distance away. Lindsey turned and sat on the edge of the bed, defeated. His hands worked furiously at nothing in particular, resting on his lap and drawing his attention. Angel stood a respectful distance away, opening the conversation when it looked like Lindsey wasn't going to be forthcoming.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Huh, well that's easy. I've thought of nothing else since I've been here. Lilah probably doesn't think I know, but it had her written all over it. It's definitely her style. A couple of goons jumped me on my way back from work and dragged me off. I don't know what they did, but it hurt like hell, and then I woke up here. I figured she'd had me abducted for some kind of punishment, you know, for running off and everything. Thing is, my watch says that today isn't Tuesday, or Wednesday, or even Thursday. It says it's three weeks later and I can't for the life of me work out what happened. I was kinda hoping you could shed some light on the matter."

He produced an embittered smile that said 'figures', and shook his head, not once meeting Angel's eyes. He felt ashamed to ask for help from this guy, of all people, and didn't like to admit that a couple of nobodies and Lilah had gotten the better of him. Angel saw it and sympathised, despite his previous misgivings. 

"Oh, and before you ask, I'm not telling you where I was. I've done a damn good job at staying hidden for a while, at least, and I intend to keep my secrets, for what good they'll do me."

Angel nodded in agreement and left the subject alone, not really caring either way. Now came the hard task. Just how do you explain to someone that they've been enslaved to a mind controlling demon for weeks, and that no one knows what untold horrors have been committed? And as for the escape, he didn't know how to report that in a way that would sound remotely credible. 

But he had to try.

* * *

Emerging from the stairwell, Gunn rounded corner and peered cautiously along the corridor. No one came up here much, and bits of junk were piled up against the walls, collecting dust and the bodies of numerous dead spiders in their webs. The air was stale and thick with floating particles, disturbed by the slightest of movements in the too long vacant space. The wiring was a bit dodgy up here too, Gunn noted, making what little working lighting there was flicker eerily. 

This was a horror movie set, it ever Gunn saw one. Why Wesley had chosen to hide up here, he could only guess. Maybe he wasn't really thinking about it at the time. Which begged the question, what was he thinking? Gunn prayed that it was nothing bad, or else they could all be in for a spot of hurricane Wes pretty soon.

He could hear muttering emanating from around the next corner and headed towards it, knowing who was the source of the noise. The closer he got, the more he could feel the building tension in the air, and he began to fear that his worst suspicions had been confirmed. Now that he thought about it, maybe creeping up on Wesley and jumping out from around a corner at him wasn't the best course of action, so he purposefully kicked over a nearby rusty bucket to make a little warning noise, the metaphor of which was not lost on him. 

The muttering stopped, and he assumed that it was relatively safe to proceed. 

"Hey, Wes..." he called as he stepped out from the shadows, revealing himself fully and suddenly feeling uncomfortably vulnerable.

Wesley stopped his pacing at the far end of the hall, turning to address the interloper. Soft light made its way in beams through the small window at the back, weaving it's way through the feeble drapes hanging in ghostly tendrils around it. The slight illumination framed Wesley's form, making it impossible for Gunn to discern his expression. 

Gunn hoped that, without his glasses, Wesley didn't see his face drop when he noticed the small pieces of fallen plaster and peeled wallpaper scattered on the carpet. The ones closest to Wesley's feet were vibrating and inexplicably jumping at each other, like leaves do in heavy rainfall. Except that there were no droplets responsible for this movement. They were charged.

Inwardly gulping, Gunn approached, deciding to play ignorant for the time being. 

"Hey, I didn't know you were up yet. What are you doing up here on your own? Are ya feelin' OK?"

"If someone else asks me that I swear to God..."

"Hey, chill man. I was just askin'."

Wesley resumed his pacing, and looked away, trying to calm himself down. It only freaked Gunn out more, and he couldn't hide his concern anymore.

"OK, so you need to tell me what's up, cuz you're seriously creeping me out right here. And don't go snarkin' at me again or I'll kick your skinny white ass."

Gunn expected to get a harsh bark of laughter for that, or maybe some sharp objects hurled his way, but he got a weary sigh instead. Wesley leant against the wall and lifted his head to stare at the ceiling, letting it rest against the cold concrete. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just...annoyed..."

"Oh really?" Gunn quipped sarcastically, "See, I hadn't noticed. Thought maybe you were always in the habit of skulking around dark hallways talking to yourself. Hell, Angel does it all the time."

The humming atmosphere relaxed a little, and the scraps of debris stilled. Gunn breathed a silent sigh of relief and walked a bit closer, joining Wesley in his propping of the corridor wall. They both stood for a moment, studying the contents of a random cardboard box that rested nearby, each waiting for the other to say something.

Wesley wanted to explain his actions in a way that would make sense, even though he wasn't quite sure himself. That audacity of that woman, the blind cheek...to just walk in there like nothing had happened...it had scared the hell out of him. He didn't usually let things get to him, but just lately, he couldn't seem to help himself. He was going to have to work on that. He knew Gunn probably wouldn't understand half of the things he might say, and there was nobody else who would, but he spoke anyway.

"I'm just tired of being the victim, Gunn."

His friend looked up at him and met his gaze without confusion or the 'huh?' he had expected.

"Then don't be", he replied. His matter-of-fact simplicity was refreshing, and Wesley wondered just how much he had already guessed. He smiled despite himself, and Gunn grinned back, pleased to have nipped that little episode in the bud.

They looked up simultaneously when they heard a crash and some muffled cursing, like someone tripping over things further down the hall. The person got closer, and an unmistakable 'eew, gross' floated round to meet them. 

 

Cordelia's head poked around the corner and she frowned at them by way of reprimand.

"There you are!" she cried, stumbling up to meet them, giving Gunn a smack on the arm when she reached them.

"Ow!" he protested, "what was that for?"

"You should know better", she scorned, pointing a finger in his face and putting the other on her hip. "And you..." She turned on Wesley with no less passion, "What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be resting!"

Gunn tried to cut in with an explanation, but she silenced him with a glare. Grabbing Wesley's elbow fiercely enough to dig in her fingernails, she turned and dragged him back the way she had come, nagging him all the way. Wesley couldn't get a word in edgeways, and Gunn had to smile at the change in mood. He'd be back to bickering with her in no time, and that's the way it was meant to be. Trust Cordelia to come along and take everyone's minds off of things for a while. She had an uncanny knack for it that always amused him.

Steeling himself for a good telling off, he followed the pair out of the deserted corridor, thankful for the reprieve from agony aunt duties.

PART 16.

 

Lindsey ran his fingers through his hair, again, and gave himself a mental slap. 

Try harder. You can do it. 

He wandered further along the hall, not really paying attention to anything in particular, and casually kicking at the odd bit of sticky up carpet. He pulled his hand out of its pocket and ran his fingers along the textured wallpaper as he walked, ignoring the grime it was gathering on the way.

It didn't really bother him anymore, having someone else's hand where his should have been. It didn't seem alien to him now, and he guessed he had gotten used to it. The scar wasn't even that noticeable now, especially if he covered it up with a watch or something. It even looked like his. Well, it matched the other one, at least. 

But it was different. He could feel it. Even if no one else could tell, he still noticed it. Stuff felt different to him, and he was sure it wasn't just his imagination. OK, so it was nothing major, but he sensed it, and it never left him, no matter how accustomed he had become. He supposed it would be the same if you could look through someone else's eyes. Would the trees still look green to them? Or would the colour that they called green actually be closer to what you thought of as blue or yellow? 

As riveting as that train of thought was, he had better things to ponder over at the moment. Besides, it wasn't like he hadn't mused about it over and over again in his dull new life. And how sad was that? His hand was wrong and misplaced, just like his entire life had been. Whatever he did, he just couldn't seem to find his place in this world, and he had come to the conclusion that he was meant to be a loner and a wanderer, dare he even say, cursed. He hadn't lost all hope, though. He knew he had a nice warm place waiting for him when he shuffled off of this mortal coil, one that he truly deserved.

Allowing an embittered snort to escape out loud, he turned a corner and banished his self-condemnation for the time being, focusing back on the task at hand.

Think, damn you, think. How hard can it be? 

Angel had explained everything to him. And he had gotten out of there as fast as he could. Angel seemed to understand, though. He probably knew better than anyone about the value of a good brood, and obviously considered his ex-lawyer friend to be of little threat at the moment, leaving him to it and allowing him the full run of the hotel. Isn't trust a marvellous thing?

Lindsey didn't exactly feel comforted by it, though. It wasn't because of his remarkable personality or good qualities that Angel was being this nice. It was because he was too weak and pathetic to put up a fight anyway right now, along with a healthy dollop of pity. Lindsey didn't exactly hold it against him, but he couldn't help feeling a little annoyed, what with his pride being hurt and all. 

Anyway, you keep getting sidetracked. Think!

It was no good. So much for the walk to clear his head. Try as he might, their was not a glimmer of recollection anywhere in his head, no matter how deep he dug. He couldn't remember a single thing from these last few weeks. Nothing that Angel had insisted had happened registered in his mind, and he was without a hope of finding anything to fill in the rest of the time that Angel didn't know about.

He hurt all over, and despite Angel's assurances that most of the damage was done during their escape from good old W&H, Lindsey knew for a fact that he had various half healed cuts and 'injuries' that had been there a lot longer, even though he didn't remember the circumstances. He shuddered to think what had gone on, and what he might have done...Oh well, he could look on the bright side. At least if he had suffered, he didn't know about it. That's a good thing, right? Never mind, don't answer.

Drifting back to the real world from his daze, Lindsey realised he had reached the staircase already, and could hear voices below in the lobby. He hesitated for a moment, and wondered whether it would be a bad idea to venture down. He wasn't sure if he was quite ready for it yet, or how well received he would be. He was bound to be greeted by suspicion, if not animosity, and he was never one of their most treasured of acquaintances. 

On the other hand, Angel had described how they had helped in his rescue, and that they understood the situation. Surely they wouldn't begrudge him some degree of acceptance after his attempt at change? 

Who was he kidding, it wasn't like the last time they helped him out he stuck to the straight and narrow, was it? All the more reason to prove his good will to them now, then. He wasn't going to skulk around up here for the rest of the time. And anyway, he was hungry.

He took the first few steps down tentatively, easing his way slowly into the huge new room and the heated conversation that was taking place within it. The centre couch came into view, and then the counter beyond it, as well as the three people occupying the space. Not wanting to intrude just yet, Lindsey lingered where he was in the shadows, taking in the scene.

The tall guy, Pryce, was sitting in the middle of the lobby on the couch, looking decidedly fed up, with that Cordelia woman floating around him and spouting on about goodness knows what. Then there was the black guy, what was his name? Gunn or something? He was leaning on the counter watching them, a big grin on his face. It didn't look like he was contributing to the conversation much, or that he wanted too. And Lindsey thought it best to follow his example.

"Cordelia, will you please stop fussing around me, I told you, I don't need you to-"

"OK, firstly, you don't get a say in this, and secondly, you do need my help. And you're getting it whether you want it or not. Now hold still! Do you see what you've done to all my patching? You've ruined it by doing who knows what and I've got to do it all over again. And don't you dare roll your eyes at me, mister, you're bleeding all over the furniture."

The woman continued to rummage in the bag she was holding, pulling out reels of bandaging and various other ominous looking items. She set about reapplying her work with a little more care than her tone suggested, and carried on her nagging session.

"Since when did you become Mr. Grouchy Pants today, anyway? It doesn't suit you. But don't worry; I know just how to fix that. You need to get a little food in you, and you'll be right as rain."

Wesley perked up a bit at the suggestion, only to have his expression change into something resembling dread.

"I'm running low on take away funds, so I thought I'd put our little kitchen to good use. I'm gonna make omelettes!" 

Gunn nearly choked on his coffee, failing miserably at his attempt to discretely cover up his amusement. The joke lost on her, Cordelia looked over at him innocently.

"What? Omelettes are our friends. Don't you guys like them? It's just that our food supply's a bit limited, what with the liquid diet boy upstairs."

She looked back expectantly at Wesley, who squirmed slightly under her gaze.

"Um, it's not that we don't like them", he stammered, "it's just that, well, it doesn't seem...appropriate. I don't want to put you to any trouble; you don't have to cook for me. I'm...not hungry..."

Lindsey didn't miss the flinch at that tiny white lie. He guessed that Cordelia's cooking probably wasn't anything to write home about. Poor guy.

Cordelia stood up straight and eyed him coldly.

"Hey, Wes, you've got a couple of strands comin' off your shirt there." She pointed down to where Wesley was sitting, and he looked over to check, but found nothing.

"Oh no, wait", Cordelia chipped, "they're your legs."

Gunn burst into laughter and Wesley narrowed his eyes at her unappreciatively. 

"Come on, Wesley. I mean, stick insect, much? Don't you ever eat? How can you not be hungry? You have to start taking better care of yourself. I'm making you something and that's the last of it." She packed away her first aid kit and went to stow it safely behind the counter, passing a hysterical Gunn on the way.

Wesley moved round to glare at his ridiculing friend and forced malicious smile.

"I don't know what you're laughing about. She'll make some for you too."

Gunn cut off his giggles rather abruptly at the realisation, his eyes widening. He made after Cordelia before she could get away, making excuses for himself and trying to persuade her from her idea.

Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to eat, Lindsey chose that moment to introduce himself, before they left the lobby. Clearing his throat in announcement, he ambled casually down the remaining steps and gave them all a shy smile.

"Hi", he said when they all turned to stare at him, stopping and rocking nervously on his heels.

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and gave him the once over with those critical eyes of hers, clearly not liking what she saw. Wesley regarded him with wary curiosity, searching for some reminder of his earlier encounters with him and coming up blank. Gunn, sensing the other two's reluctance, stepped in and offered the only icebreaker he could think of, as lame as it was.

"Hey", he said, "is everything...OK? Are you..."

"I've been better. But don't worry, not evil."

"Glad to hear it", Gunn replied, not sounding entirely convinced.

"Well, if it isn't 'born yet again' boy", Cordelia mumbled under her breath, turning her back on him to rustle through some papers on the counter.

Doing his best to ignore her comment, Lindsey continued, desperate to get their approval.

"Look, I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for helping me out...And I'm sorry if I hurt you or anything, I didn't mean to. I've sorta tried to turn over a new leaf, and this didn't really fit the new image."

He took a breath, not getting an answer, but ploughed on anyway.

"I never really apologised to you guys for...stuff, and I know I can never say it enough, so I don't expect you to forgive me. I just hoped that you could understand that I'm trying to change, and that, as far as I'm concerned, there's no hard feelings."

Well, that was the end of the speech he had prepared, and he had nothing left to say. He prayed that the response wouldn't be too harsh on him, seeing as how he had been entirely sincere for a change.

Gunn gave a curt nod in his direction, a sign, surely? He received a bitter 'yeah, whatever' from Cordelia, and Wesley just stared some more, catching himself when Lindsey looked his way.

Not as bad as it could have been, he supposed. Now came the tricky bit. The small talk.

"So", he started, walking a bit further into the room, "...what's happening?"

You lame-o...

Gunn, looking slightly confused and probably suspecting that this guy had a circuit or two missing, went back to nursing his coffee and tried to think of something interesting to say.

"Er, well, nothing much", he admitted, "except that Cordelia and Wesley are having another one of their bickering matches. Why don't you watch with me, it's kinda fun."

"Oh, ha ha", Cordelia snapped, digging a magazine out from a pile of papers in an attempt to further ignore Lindsey's existence. Without even turning her head, she yelled 'SIT!" when she sensed Wesley getting up behind her, ready to make his escape. He sighed and obeyed, deciding that he had been right all along never to admit to Cordelia when he was really sick. The hassle just wasn't worth it.

Lindsey absorbed the silence for a while, idly musing about things that he regretted saying out loud afterwards.

"Cordelia..." he mumbled, not intending it as a way to address her.

"Yes?" she asked, thinking that he had something to say to her. He looked up at her and snapped himself out of his thoughts, struggling for a way to explain himself.

"That's Shakespearian, right? King Lear's daughter?" Wow, the king of conversation. You stupid idiot.

She shot him a look like he was the weirdest freak on the planet, and then turned to Gunn for interpretation. He shrugged but said nothing, probably not wanting to seem ignorant.

"I mean, I was just thinking, you guys have some...unique names. Angel, Gunn and...Wesley. Sounds kinda dumb."

Wesley finally met his eyes at that point, and incredulous and slightly hurt expression on his face.

"Gee, I've never heard that one before", he drawled sarcastically. "Besides, you're one to talk, Lindsey."

"Why are you being like this?" Cordelia chipped in, coming to Wesley's defence. It seemed she had been offended out of her childish game of 'I'm not talking to you'.

Lindsey cursed himself for putting their backs up again and reverting to his old ways. He never was any good at making friends. Something to do with the 'each for his own' way of life that comes with being a poor kid. He sighed and looked at his feet, trying to think up a way to save the situation before he dug himself further into his hole.

"Sorry. I guess I'm just kinda nervous. When I'm not being all cranky I get sorta shy and mess stuff like this up." He gave them a weak smile that faded fast, and he looked away, embarrassed. 

Yet another one of those uneasy quiets fell again, and Cordelia gave up her pretence, throwing down the magazine she wasn't really that engrossed in after all. Wesley broke the tension with a little empathetic compassion, suggesting that someone should go out for food.

"Are you hungry, Lindsey?" he asked, hoping that he could get someone else on his side when it came to eating and avoiding Cordelia's culinary treats. Lindsey nodded enthusiastically, but noticed the irritation on Cordelia's face when it looked like her offer was going to be snuffed.

"Do you guys have a kitchen here?" he asked, knowing full well that they did, but wanting to spare Cordelia's feelings and avoid her wrath. " 'Cause I make a mean cheese omelette..."

* * *

Sleep can be treacherous sometimes, creeping up on you when you don't even realise it. Maybe he just hadn't noticed how tired he had been, not having chance to rest for hours now. There had just been so many things going on that he didn't have the time to stop, let alone close his eyes. And he still didn't have the time.

Lorne had told him before he had left, about the danger he felt was left to come, as well as a few other things that he would have to talk to Wesley about later. He made a mental note to do so, when this was all over. 

Anyway, having Lilah, and then Lorne, come to him and tell him something wasn't right couldn't just be a coincidence. He needed to let the others know right away and get prepared for whatever it was that was yet to make itself known. His body, it seemed, had better ideas.

Having had a very long discussion with Lindsey and then being left on his own in the dark room, hours of fighting, explaining and general emotional stress had taken its toll, and he had crashed out before his rational mind could protest.

Coming to his senses now, Angel realised just how dearly that could have proven to cost them. He almost jumped off of the bed, hurriedly brushing himself down and rushing out the door. He checked the corridor, then the room he knew Cordelia had used, finding them empty. Wondering where Lindsey had gotten to, he made his way downstairs to find everyone tucking into plates of eggs at the counter. 

To his surprise, Lindsey was there, and apparently being complimented on his skills as a cook. Wesley clearly hadn't torn apart the hotel after all, and was contentedly finishing off his portion at Gunn's side, seemingly none the worse for wear after his encounter with Lilah. Even Cordelia looked a little less fiery when she noticed his presence, and for a moment he hoped that all had been forgiven.

He was disappointed.

"Finally emerged from your cave and come crawling back down now, I see. Wesley's still alive, by the way, in case you'd failed to notice during your brooding." She shovelled another forkful of cheese and eggs into her mouth, and Wes gave him an apologetic shrug, not really wanting to know what they were arguing about.

Angel refused to be drawn into another battle of the wills, and opted for getting straight to the point.

"You guys, there's something I've got to tell you, it's important. Lilah came by earlier and said that we've got more trouble to expect, and Lorne confirmed it. He said he could sense something coming."

Lindsey paled slightly, and Cordelia glared harder at Angel, Lilah's presence being news to her.

"What do you mean Lilah was here? What were you thinking?!" she cried, giving a meaningful nod in Wesley's direction where he was currently stabbing at his plate with slightly more force than was necessary. 

Frustrated, Angel continued, looking to Gunn for support.

"Look, I don't have time to get into it with you, I just thought you should know, so that we can be ready."

"Ready for what?" Cordelia demanded, not willing to give Angel an easy ride.

At that moment, everyone snapped their heads round to see a large object smash its way through the glass in the lobby doors, sending shards flying through the air and covering them all in tiny fragments of sharp and deadly sparkles. Instinctively ducking and throwing themselves to the floor, the others dived for safety whilst Angel threw himself over the counter, out of the path of the object.

He landed on the floor next to Cordelia with a grunt, tensing himself up for a fight. She turned to look at him wide-eyed, disbelief clear in her gaze. 

"Is this worth being ready for, do you think?" he asked.

PART 17.

 

The sound of scraping metal and scattering shards of glass rang through the lobby with an urgency that no one would mistake. It's occupants, driven by instinct to cowering behind the relative safety barrier that was the counter, waited for the blessed silence that would signal the end of the attack. Mercifully, it came quickly, and each was able to snap back their initial terror and replace it with hardened resolve, reasserting the pretence that such understandable reactions were beyond them, and that loud noises and sudden violence couldn't faze them. This, of course, was far from the truth.

Angel, being somewhat different from his human friends and a little less prone to the effects of animal fear, was the first to recover, and recognised it as his duty as the resident champion to shield the others for their protection and confront the intruding enemy. Either that, or the adrenaline rush was making him feel confident.

Wrenching Cordelia's hands away from her ears, Angel instructed her to usher the others through the office and either wait for some sort of signal, or make a break for it, depending on what the situation called for. Eager to put distance between herself and the seemingly explosive lobby entrance, Cordelia nodded her consent, turning and pushing her three male counterparts from their position on the floor.

Watching them scuttle across the floor like ants, Angel only revealed himself when he was satisfied that they were out of harms way. This could just be some random and isolated event, like maybe a car accidentally crashing into the front of the hotel, but Angel suspected otherwise. He wasn't about to give Wolfram and Hart the benefit of the doubt.

Slowly rising in case of another explosion that might require him to return to his undignified acquaintance with the dust bunnies collecting under the shelving, Angel cautiously scanned the scene, reminding himself to have a talk with Cordelia about the merits of cleaning everywhere, even if it meant having to inconveniently clean where the human eye usually doesn't notice.

Had he been well familiarised with modern popular culture, Angel may have described what he saw as Hannibal Lecter-ish. As it was, he just thought it was insanely creepy. 

He came eye to eye with a monstrously large demon, standing rigidly upright in the centre of the lobby, as if waiting for him to appear. It studied the vampire calmly, with out so much as a twitch of movement on it's part. 

Angel couldn't stop the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he looked this thing over, weaponry and all. It didn't need to be wielding vicious looking medieval artefacts to be threatening. The incredibly long and thick talons protruding from each finger did that for it. And as if to add insult to injury, it had twelve fingers, six on each hand. It also sported knife-like fangs that dripped when they were bared, reminding Angel of some weird alien movie he had glimpsed the others watching at some point. At least it didn't have horns. That would have been too much.

The leathery black skin looked hard to pierce, and judging from it's build and giant stance, it looked annoyingly strong. A testament to that strength lay in the form of the long metal bench, currently resting across to his right, no doubt responsible for the shattered wreck that remained where the doors should have been.

Consciously trying not to gulp, Angel looked the thing coldly in the eye, waiting for something to happen. Preferably, he would get a clue as to how to kill this thing, but realistically, he wanted it to make the first move. If it was just going to walk off and leave them be, that was just fine by him.

"Where is the knowing one?" it asked in the deepest voice Angel had ever heard, struggling to pronounce words through it's mouthful of needles.

So much for that theory.

But good, at least it's stupid. That at least gave them a chance. If it was as sluggish of foot as it was of brain, they could dodge it until they found a way of de-clawing it, or it died of old age. 

"Like I'm just going to hand him over to you", Angel sneered. "If you want Wesley, you're going to have to get through me." So this was Wolfram and Hart, back for more. He'd guessed as much.

The creature moved it's gaze, focusing on something behind Angel himself, towards the office. Thinking that someone must have disobeyed him and come out to join the fight, Angel turned to look, preparing to seriously reprimand whoever it was. 

Finding no one there after all, Angel realised his mistake. Spinning back around, he was left with only an empty lobby to greet him. 

"That's not good", he said out loud, hurrying round to the other side of the counter in the hopes of spotting the route of the escaped monster. Unless his vampire senses deceived him, the demon was still here...somewhere. And either it stank, a lot, or it wasn't alone. A cold trickle ran down his back, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood up to alert him of the wrongness they felt. Oh yeah, something was wrong all right. Was he going mad? 'Cause he could have sworn he just heard a rustle...

Something Angel couldn't see backhanded him across the face, sending him staggering into the weapons cabinet and falling down in surprise. Blinking in confusion at the apparently empty space, he got an idea, and began scrabbling around on the floor, scooping up handfuls of glass fragments.

Not really sure if he wanted it to work or not, he threw the bead sized pieces back the way he had come, staring in horror as they bounced back from countless invisible objects instead of spreading out harmlessly on the floor opposite.

"Oh great", he moaned, "invisible too? This just isn't fair." 

Taking advantage of his one bit of good fortune, Angel yanked open the doors of his much loved arsenal storage facility, pulling out his favourite long sword for battle. If all else fails, at least he had a good chance of hitting something when he started swinging this thing around. 

Wasting no time and wanting to get straight into the killing part of the fight, Angel raised his sword, ready for action. Unfortunately for him, the other participants had better ideas. The office door the others had crawled through imploded, no doubt caused by one of the demons in an attempt to flush their prey out. Lindsey in the lead, the others poured out of the second door and straight into the lobby, looking around wildly for any sign of their attackers.

Finding none and looking to Angel in confusion, they each lowered their weapons; the small hurling axes stored in the office for just such an emergency occasion. They had played right into the demon's hands. Angel didn't have time to shout a warning as the others ran his way, seeing his injuries and asking for explanations.

All four tripped at once, landing face first in a pile on the floor, with Cordelia squashed at the bottom and Lindsey sprawled out on top.

"Ow!" Cordelia screamed in protest, "Get off of me! What's the matter with you?!"

No one had chance to reply. Scrambling to get up, Lindsey was lifted by his neck, an invisible force responsible. Kicking and gasping, his feet dangling above the floor, Lindsey clutched at what felt like an arm holding him up. Angel ran forward, plunging his sword into where he assumed the demon to be, getting a satisfying squelch for his efforts. Lindsey was released and caught by Gunn before he tumbled to the ground. 

"They're invisible!" Angel shouted as deep purple blood appeared in dripping pools on the floor.

"That would explain a lot", Wesley replied, stepping to Angel's side. "And when you say they..."

"I mean there's more than one of them, so run!"

Turning to do just that, everyone was helped on their way by a little demon-style propulsion. Angel was immediately knocked to the ground, him being the biggest threat of all, and he felt a weight like a ton of bricks bear down on him, stealing all the words from his mouth. 

Cordelia was flung screaming back into the office, colliding with the desk and not getting up again. Gunn, seeing the attack on her, leapt forward in anger, flailing his axe in the hope of slicing the son of a bitch that was responsible. He had the weapon ripped out of his hands for his attempt, and he was pushed effortlessly to the side.

Then it was Lindsey's turn. He and Wesley backed away towards the counter, weapons in front and ready for use. It did them no good. As if he had been no heavier than a rag doll, Lindsey was lifted from his feet and sent flying through the air towards one of the yet unbroken windows framing the entrance. His breath stolen from him, he didn't have the choice of screaming. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and wait for the sharp glass pieces to start lacerating their way through his body as he crashed through, probably killing him when he landed on them wrongly. 

They say your whole life flashes before your eyes before you die. Lindsey didn't know if that was true, but he found himself wondering as he hurtled through the air, feeling irrationally disappointed when he realised he would get no such saving grace. What he didn't realise was that it wasn't because the saying was false that he'd failed to get the distraction. It was because he wasn't going to die.

The momentum stopping suddenly, Lindsey carefully opened his eyes again, wondering if he had been spared the pain off his unpleasant death and was now on the other side. Instead, he came face to face with the still in tact glass pane, waiting for him to continue his journey through. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was floating.

Wesley stood, rooted to the spot, a look of sheer panic on his face. Wow, he was never going to get used to seeing that happen. Another thing he needed to work on if this power thingy was going to be of any use at all. It had the annoying tendency to work when you least expected it to, which kept catching him by surprise. Damn magic.

He wasn't allowed long to worry about it though, and he got his share of the throwing and the landing and all the pain that came with it. Something punched him hard in the face, breaking his concentration, to Lindsey's misfortune, letting him plummet to the floor. The blow sent Wesley hurling across the counter and dislodged the axe from his hand. He rolled into Cordelia's desk, narrowly avoiding being impaled by his own weapon as it flew past his head and imbedded itself into the side of the computer monitor. Since it was always left on, the impact produced a small explosion, sparks flying out with the sizzling smoke. A stack of paper reports nearby caught on fire, and Wesley had to move away quickly to avoid being burnt himself. 

This was not good at all. To all appearances, Gunn was fist fighting (and losing) with thin air, and Angel was being crushed by an invisible body wrestler. He had to do something. As it was, they were essentially fighting blind.

He forced his aching bones and bruised limbs to move, avoiding the razor sharp shards threatening to slice into his skin. Steadying himself on his knees for a moment, he looked around for an idea. There was never one just lying there when you needed it. Right now, he needed a big juicy one with a flashing neon sign saying 'idea here' and an arrow pointing at it. Oh well, he'd just have to make do with what his tired brain could churn out. 

Small flakes of black and white ash snowed down on him, and a thin film of smoke curled its way around him in attempt to make him choke. He looked up at the burning pile and thought about extinguishing it before the rest of the hotel caught alight. That would do them no good at all. Then he remembered that even this old hotel had a sprinkler system, so that shouldn't be a problem. 

He paused. Inspiration!

Leaping to his feet a little too fast, he clambered onto Cordelia's desk, a fist full of smouldering pages in one hand. Now, if he remembered rightly...ah ha! A small, out-dated smoke detector was fixed to the ceiling above him, just out of reach. Putting the other hand out to lean on the wall for support, he leant forward, introducing what little smoke he could to the contraption.

Nothing happened.

Damn it! Where's the over sensitive fire alarm when you need it? You know, the one that always goes off when you make toast, whether it's burnt to a crisp or not? The thing was just too old, like the rest of the hotel. Maybe he needed more smoke. He tried to force his body to bend more, getting the paper even closer to the detector and holding it there a long as his protesting muscles would allow. If it didn't go off soon, he'd either pull something vital or one of those see-through demons would discover his plan. This had to work! Everyone's lives depended on it!

Finally, when he thought that his body would give out altogether, the alarm went off, startling him with its sound. Slipping from his footing, Wesley lost his balance and fell forward, clattering to the ground. The old piping in the crumbling walls spluttered into life, groaning with age as water coursed through the system. The tiny sprinkler heads spat pathetically, raining down droplets in chugging blasts rather than the smooth covering intended. Decades worth of grime had clogged them up, and some refused to work altogether, resulting in a steady drip or trickle in certain places. But those that worked with satisfactory regularity produced the desired effect.

Each drop diverted from its natural course bounced and jumped from the invisible bodies of the demons, exposing their whereabouts to the human eye. Wesley struggled up from his heap on the floor to see the situation for himself. Angel was right; there were at least ten of the beasts. And they weren't small, either. Thankful for this small victory, Wesley got up to join the fight, retrieving a crossbow from the rather worse for wear cabinet and making his way towards an immobilised Angel.

What he hadn't realised in his relief was that the demons had stopped their attack, and had become a lot more vocal, if that's what you could call it. Deep rumbles resonated from their throats, and some thrashed their arms around against the torrent of water. They were screaming. 

Before his very eyes, the invisible forms of the demons began to shimmer, and slowly, their true appearances were being revealed. Jet black and leathery, their thick hides became apparent first, then the various spikes and claws they were adorned with. After a few seconds, they took on a completely solid appearance and the shimmering stopped. Wesley hadn't expected this effect, but it was useful, none the less. What was more, they seemed to be in pain, like the water was physically harming them. 

The creature pinning Angel to the ground rolled off, and the vampire staggered to his feet. The other demons writhed around, some falling to their knees with the pain. Wesley breathed a sigh of relief, realising that they finally had the upper hand. 

Celebrating the victory would have proved to be premature, however, as he soon found out. The walls themselves began to creak, and ominous bubbling sounds emanated from the overhead pipes. The sprinklers began to pump out more air than water, hissing with the effort to keep functioning. Abruptly, they stopped working altogether, and nothing but drips emerged.

Wesley looked across and met Angel's eyes as realisation dawned. They were both thinking the same thing.

"Oh", was all he could think of to say as he watched each demon begin to pick itself up and turn their way. 

Far from being pleased at that move and disadvantaged now that their invisibility had been wiped away, the demons growled menacingly and advanced. As tall as he was, this particular breed still managed to tower over Wesley with unbelievable height, muscular arms bulging unnaturally. The staring-in-awe done with, he raised his crossbow and fired a bolt, hoping to fell one by going for the neck. 

His shot sailed true despite his bad eyesight, but the beast barely swayed, pulling it out and throwing it to the ground in disgust. The damn thing didn't even have the decency to bleed.

All of the demons were now seething with anger, practically roaring at the opposition as they circled and surrounded, boxing Angel, Gunn and Wesley in between the office and themselves. This was it, do or die.

Gunn yelled an incoherent battle cry and sprung forward, rolling smoothly past the demons on his side and snatching up his fallen weapon, coming to a stop on the other side, on his feet again. The slow-witted beasts turned in surprise at the move, not being swift enough to catch him before he got past. Angel took his chance.

Swinging the sword he had somehow managed to keep hold of through it all, he sliced his way through the air, aiming for the log of an arm in front of him. If stabbing them through the chest wouldn't kill them, then at least he could immobilise them by hacking off a limb or two. That plan worked until the blade met the creature's hide, bouncing off harmlessly and sending a reverberating shock down Angel's arms. Almost dropping the weapon with the pain, Angel backed off, looking to Wesley for help.

"How the hell do you kill this thing?" he shouted, having to yell over the din of the battle.

"I have no idea", Wesley replied, ducking a swipe from one of his own demons, "but, um, at a guess...I'd say water isn't a bad idea!" He ducked again, this time taking the opening to move away from being cornered. 

He backed away and crossed the lobby, making his way towards Lindsey's still form, lying where he had fallen. After a quick glance to make sure he was still breathing, Wesley turned his attention back to the problem at hand. Some of the demons had turned to try to follow him, but were taking their time to avoid the puddles of water that had collected in certain depressions on the lobby floor. They certainly didn't like the ole' H2O. Not for the first time, Wesley wished that LA could be a little more like England. The trusty gloomy weather of the motherland would certainly come in handy right about now. 

Forcing his brain to yet again come up with something useful, he scanned around for something that might help win the day. What he finally rested his eyes on, however, turned out to be anything but helpful to the situation.

Staggering out of the office with her head in her hand, Cordelia made an appearance in the doorway.

"Angel?" she groaned, oblivious to the danger she had discovered and swaying slightly with the pain.

When she finally looked up, her eyes widened at the sight. Alerted to her presence, a couple of the demons broke away from the group fighting Angel and Gunn and trudged towards her, fangs bared.

Injured and weapon less, Cordelia was completely at the mercy of the beasts, and the look on her face said she knew it. Realising her stupidity for revealing herself far too late, she turned to run, punctuating her escape with an,

"Oh crap."

PART 18.

 

Cordelia so needed a pay rise. If she had known that being chased by life threateningly evil demons on an almost daily basis was going to be part of the job description, she may have passed the opportunity up. She'd have to talk to Wesley about that, if she got out of this alive.

Turning to flee had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that she thought it through carefully, it really didn't have that much potential. The only place left to run was back into the office and out the other door, only to be confronted by yet more leathery nasties. This really wasn't her day.

At least those things were slow. Lumbering after her with a one mindedness that rivalled the Terminator himself, two of the creatures wedged their way into the small room, taking part of the doorframe with them. They left Cordelia with no choice. She'd have to take her chances outside in the lobby where maybe Angel could defend her until she found a weapon of her own. That is, if he wasn't ribbons already.

Scrambling out of reach of the two in pursuit, Cordelia bolted, making for the lobby counter. Rounding it smoothly but not watching where she was treading, she slipped on the small beads of broken glass still littering the floor, skidding unceremoniously into the already shattered weapons cabinet. Ignoring the pain, she made use of unfortunate situation as best she could, hefting something long and spiky out of the carnage. In all the confusion, she forgot what it was called, but decided that the fact that it was sharp, pointy and vicious looking meant that it was as suitable a weapon as any.

Whirling to face her stalkers, she was surprised to see that, instead of using their brains and going back the way they had come, the two demons had wedged themselves tight in the second doorway trying to get through it at the same time, and were currently arguing over which one got to go first. Of course, to Cordelia's eyes, there argument consisted more of snarling and clawing than engaging in a rational debate. Not that it mattered. They could stay there and lash at each other's eyes for as long as they liked.

Determined to aid in the battle, Cordelia pulled alongside Angel, swinging his sword with all his strength in full vamp mode. He was managing to successfully ward off his attackers, but seemed unlikely, for the moment at least, to make any headway on the killing front. Gunn was holding his own pretty well too, and apart from a ripped shirt and bloodied arm, seemed to be fairing better now that he had picked up a small axe from somewhere.

Cordelia jabbed her spiky spear thing at one of the brutes, taking off some flesh here and there, but not seeming to slow it down. They kept on at it, throwing their arms around and swiping at their prey, regardless of how much damage they took. And they showed no sign of weariness, either, unlike their human adversaries (and Angel).

Dodging a blow and skipping to the side, Cordelia used the opening to check the situation on the far side of the lobby. Lindsey had somehow managed to get himself knocked out, lying uselessly over the steps at the entrance. Standing defiantly in front of him was Wesley, beating the demons back gradually but running dangerously low on crossbow bolts. She noted the look of concentration on his face, and wondered just what kind of a struggle was going on beneath the mask that kept him from losing it completely and ripping everything apart. As it was, she considered that possibility to be more than welcomed right now, even if the results could prove to be a little extreme. Something needed to happen soon, or they'd all be too worn down to fight. These demon guys just weren't giving up.

Gunn's axe clashed loudly against a set of claws as the beast increased the ferocity of it's attack. Another spun round and brought up a paw, ready to bring it down on the already engaged human. Gunn struggled to free himself ready for defence, but he would be too late. He jumped back and ducked, letting go of his only weapon in a feeble attempt to avoid the knife-like talons. 

One of the demons lurched forward to take advantage, and the swiper spun again, ready to repeat it's move. Someone shouted 'Gunn!' from the other side of the room, and something whistled through the air towards him. The swiping demon roared and buckled in agony as a long wooden bolt embedded itself in one of it's mad red eyes. 

Snatching up his weapon again, Gunn looked around the side of the replacement demon to spare Wesley a nod. 

"Thanks, man."

"No problem, don't mention it", he replied.

Then the battle resumed.

Cordelia, trying not to become distracted by the almost light-hearted banter being exchanged, winced slightly as yet another one of the spiky bits on her spear broke off on the hardened skin of her particular battle buddy. She'd have to pay for that, thank you very much. And right now, she needed all the spikes she could get. If they did it again, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from yelling 'no fair!' at the top of her voice. 

"We're going to have to retreat!" Angel shouted to her as he stabbed at yet another advance. "If we can beat them back, we could make it to the stairs, or to the basement and then out through the sewers. We have to try and loose them."

Cordelia was too out of breath to reply, but she agreed whole-heartedly. There was no way they could win this now, as unprepared as they were. If they could just get to the others...

A dull cry bit through the air as Wesley was knocked to the side, his crossbow finally spent. Sprawled on the floor at the cloven feet of his opponent, he gazed up at what could only be his doom. Waiting for the razor sharp claws to rip through him, he shouted a warning to the others, calling for help for Lindsey. 

Inexplicably, the demon before him hesitated, and Wesley wondered if this turn of fate was also attributable to this supposed power of his. He certainly didn't feel very powerful, lying helplessly on the marble floor and awaiting his inevitable demise. On the other hand, he didn't feel particularly frightened or angry either, which could explain why he had proven so useless so far. He'd tried so hard not to let the situation get to him, that now he found he was unable to really feel anything at all, even though now it could count for an awful lot, and perhaps mean the difference between life and death. 

He held his breath, watching for the deadly blow...that never came. Instead, the demon flared it's nostrils and snorted, stamping at the ground with it's hoof. A low rumble rose from deep in it's throat, and it's companions turned in recognition. Angel and the others lowered their weapons in disbelief, unsure of what was happening. To their eyes, it seemed as if the demons were retreating.

Wesley saw his demon turn it's head, and he followed it's gaze with his own eyes. Lindsey stirred, coming around, and groaned as he forced his stiff and bruised limbs to obey. Revelation hit Wesley like a slap to the face as the demons moved off, heading towards where Lindsey was slumped. 

It was him they wanted.

Angel's faced dropped as he too realised his mistake. Meeting his widening eyes, Wesley's bewildered expression said it all; this was not what they had expected. But then again, this was Wolfram and Hart they were dealing with, after all. They should have known better.

"Traitor", one of the beasts bellowed.

"He knows too much", another joined in, an almost conspiratorial husk to it's droning voice.

All of them advanced, surrounding Lindsey in an unbreakable semi-circle as he struggled to get upright. He glared up at them like a cornered animal, covering his fear under a show of animosity. Backing slowly towards the door, his hands searched desperately behind him for something to use as a weapon, but found nothing but cold stonewall. 

One of the 'smartest' of the demons must have noticed his attempt at escape, moving round to block his exit, a sneering grin of delight pulling on it's hideous features. Lindsey glowered, his eyes darting from one to the other, daring them to make a move. He wouldn't make this easy for them. He'd squirm and wriggle and scream bloody murder for all he was worth. He may not have anything sharp or lethal to gouge at them with, but he could still bite. 

Come on evil hand, don't fail me now...

A barrier of shiny black backs, rippling with muscles, separated Lindsey from the rest of the group, and gave the impression that the demons had completely forgotten about the presence of everyone else. If this wasn't an opportunity to attack, Angel didn't know what was. Lifting his sword to eye level, he charged forward, ramming it as far as he could through the exposed body of the nearest demon.

It shrieked in annoyance with the morbid tones of it's kind, and flailed an arm back wildly, seizing the still imbedded weapon and pulling it out. A torrent of deep purple blood spurted from the wound, coating Angel from head to toe in sticky liquid. Tossing the sword away like it was no more than an inconvenient splinter, the demon turned it's wrath on he responsible, knocking Angel away with such force that he collided with Gunn, taking him along before they both crashed hard into the opposite wall.

Wesley, taking up Angel's sword, ran forward, his feet in time with Cordelia's own as she too came to Lindsey's rescue. Seeing claws being raised and preparing to strike the defenceless ex-lawyer, she shouted 'HEY!' at the top of her lungs, forcing the things to turn and confront her instead of finishing the job. One spun just in time to see her spear rip into it's gut, whilst another received a skewering from Wesley. 

Of course, this meant that both weapons were now out of commission, especially when the respective demons snapped them in two and threw them aside, just for effect. Wishing she hadn't drawn the attention to herself, Cordelia stood mesmerised as the enraged demon reached down and hefted her off her feet by her neck, it's grip almost choking her. It brought her face close, rancid hot breath blasting her as it displayed it's teeth for her benefit.

'This is it', she thought, 'this is the end. It's gonna chow down on me, and then all of us in turn, and there's not a damn thing anyone can do about it. Not even Angel. He'll be the only one left, they'll leave him behind, and then I'll be one more corpse to add to his list of broodables. He'll be all alone again...poor Angel...'

Wesley wasn't going to give his demon the chance to grab him like that, and he easily dodged the clumsy paws that grasped his way. He saw Cordelia's heels kicking madly, her hands clutching at the wrist that suspended her. He knew the demon was about to bite and felt panic rise up inside him. Without so much as a toothpick to his name, any attempt at an attack would probably be futile...but he had to try.

Summoning up all that was left of his dwindling strength, Wesley side stepped his demon and lunged through the air, placing a well-aimed kick to Cordelia's demon's wound. It barely flinched in response, but stopped it's threat of feeding long enough to issue a growl in warning. Another to it's side swiped at the irritating human like someone might try to swat a fly, but he kept on skipping and dodging, buzzing around in a fashion that was hopefully grating on their nerves. 

Cordelia's demon gave an exasperated snarl when it's comrades failed to catch him, and decided to take the matter into it's own hands. Using Cordelia as a human shaped weapon, it slammed Wesley down to the ground, dropping her on top of him as it did so. Standing immediately, she was backhanded to the floor again, crying out with the pain.

"Cordelia!" Wesley shouted, trying to scramble to her aid. The demon turned on him, throwing him against the corner of the doorway with a sickening thud. He fell to the floor on his hands and knees, but did not get up again, his head hanging down low.

Cordelia blinked her shimmering eyes, forcing her vision to clear as she rose onto her elbows from where she lay. That's when she felt it...the change. The air thickened and buzzed, threatening a storm. And she welcomed it.

Wesley raised his head and glared at the demon standing over him, the one that had the nerve to grin mockingly at it's fallen victim. Cordelia could see the new spark in Wesley's eyes, and couldn't hold back the twisted chuckle that fought for release. The demon looked at her sceptically, obviously not realising it's folly.

"Oh boy", she croaked, her throat still raw from the strangle hold. She rubbed her burning cheek and narrowed her eyes with satisfied menace. "You so shouldn't have done that."

The stupid brute cocked it's head quizzically, doubt passing over it's features. It didn't even have time to construct a question in it's painfully slow brain. It glanced back down at Wesley to see a disturbingly sweet smile spread across his face, only to turn into a crazy grin. In a second, it was gone, replaced by a look of intense determination fuelled by rage as the demon was propelled backwards with incredible speed.

Wall tiles and plaster broke from the wall in chunks as the huge body hit it like a hammer. Angel and Gunn, recovering from their previous trip across to that side of the room, rolled out of the way as quickly as they could, and only just in time, before the creature crashed down next to them. 

The other demons watched with something resembling surprise, but it was hard for Cordelia to tell their expression, what with the teeth and the skin rolls. However, there was no doubt about the fear they showed when their eyes came to rest on Wesley again. He gave them the same sweet smile, and then thrust out his hands, rising to face them as they were all jerked into the air.

Roaring in dismay, they were all dropped to the ground again as quickly as they had been picked up, landing smack in the middle of the lobby. Cordelia thought she saw Wesley waver for a second, his expression faltering as he swayed slightly. But it was gone again in the blink of an eye, and he continued is rampage with renewed urgency.

The demons, once fierce and terrifying, now huddled together on the floor, cowering before their new master in awe. Cordelia stood, shaky on her feet, and backed off, feeling no sympathy for the beasts whatsoever.

"How do you like invisible tactics now?" she asked, unable to resist commenting on the poetic justice of the situation. She ran to Angel and Gunn, helping them up and leading them away from the still body lying next to them. She spared a glance to Lindsey that she hoped would be reassuring, seeing him backed rigidly into the wall, pure disbelief radiating from him. She would have shouted something to him, but the sudden rumbling coming from the hotel walls subdued her into silence.

The cluster of demonic hell spawn currently contaminating the room glanced around fearfully, not daring to even look into the human's eyes, lest they should anger him further. Their utter reverence of his power would do nothing to save them now, though.

As if from nowhere, a jagged-edged pipe protruded from the ceiling above them and twisted down, almost snakelike in it's movements. The groaning and creaking continued as the hotels interior strained against the forces being exerted upon it. Wesley's hand moved graceful shapes through the air, as though he was sculpturing the curling pipe himself.

Then everything fell quiet. Angel, Gunn, Cordelia and Lindsey joined the demons in their collective gaze upward, wondering what would happen next. The metal snake gasped, and there was a sudden whooshing sound thundering towards them, getting louder and louder until the source became evident.

Pressurised water burst from the broken pipe, showering down on the demons as they writhed and thrashed, roaring and groaning like it was hot acid and not the harmless liquid that humans took for granted everyday. 

The words 'melting...melting!' came to mind as Cordelia looked on, unmoved by their plight. To her incredulous shock, it looked as though they actually were melting, as horribly cliché as that might seem. Thick, gelatinous 'goo', for want of a better word, seeped from each demon until there was nothing solid left, leaving only a disgusting jelly-like mass of blackness in their wake.

Too amazed to say anything, she stared open mouthed as the pipe knotted itself up, choking the supply of water that was flooding the lobby floor. The demon to her right was roused from it's stupor as the water spread beneath it, causing it to leap up hastily and hop from foot to foot in pain. It glared round angrily, looking for the one responsible, obviously not noticing the pile of dead demon goop making a stain on the marble.

Wesley marched over, his shoulders hunched and fists balled, audibly grinding his teeth. The demon moved to attack him, but was immediately slammed to the floor, it's skin blistering as it was once more immersed in water. Wesley flicked his wrist, and the creature was pinned to the wall, understanding leaking fear into it's eyes.

Cordelia watched as Wesley moved close, stopping just short of bad breath distance, staring intensely ahead as though it took all of his concentration to keep the demon where it was. After a tense couple of seconds, his shoulders dropped, and he blinked wearily, all the anger forced away. Cordelia didn't know if she preferred this new blank, dead expression to the seething rage she'd seen before. It looked uncaring and tragically sad at the same time, as though he really didn't mind either way whether he lived through this or not.

Startled when he spoke, the others kept quiet, each secretly trying to think of a way to bring Wesley down if he started to hurt anyone. Cordelia knew it seemed untrusting, but she knew the risks all too well.

"Lindsey", Wesley called, beckoning with a hand that didn't leave the man with any choice about whether he approached or not. "Come over here, please."

Arriving at Wesley's side without flexing a muscle, Lindsey questioned the others with anxious eyes, not quite believing what was happening. Cordelia responded with a discrete shake of the head, urging him to stay quiet. He grudgingly obliged, not really knowing what else to do anyway. He focused his attention on the demon in front, studying it as it studied him in return, undoubtedly thinking unhealthy thoughts about it's target and prey.

"This is what you want, is it not?" Wesley asked, motioning towards Lindsey just to make sure the thick headed creature understood completely. The demon did not, or could not, reply, but maintained it's gaze.

"The senior partners must have sent you as assassins to tie up loose ends. They don't want the knowledge Lindsey has of the company falling into the hands of the enemy." He smiled when the demon met his eyes, confirming his suspicions without the need for a vocal response. These creatures were so thick.

He gave a wistful sigh, over dramatising his movements for the benefit of his audience. "I suppose the only way to get around this is if Lindsey is dead, right?"

Lindsey's eyes widened, and he looked towards the others pleadingly. Angel tightened his grip on Cordelia's arm, and Gunn reacted with a simple gape of his mouth. Wesley turned his head away from the demon's view to look at Lindsey as he continued to talk, raising his eyebrows meaningfully as he did so.

"If he dies, he won't be in any danger of spilling any information, and he gets his comeuppance for deserting the firm. You'll be free to go, and the firm will leave us alone. Well, that's my guess, anyway."

Lindsey got it. He braced himself, ready.

"So all that's left...", he turned back to the demon, "...is for you to do your job. Oh, but you're hurt. How crass of me. Here, allow me to assist."

He flung out an arm, and Lindsey was sent hurtling across the lobby, again, this time heading for the wall behind the counter. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, but he was absolutely terrified, and the dramatic cry he let out wasn't entirely fake as he stopped inches before the wall and crashed to the ground, throwing his limbs out in a way that he hoped looked convincing enough. He fell behind the counter, out of sight, and lay still, not even daring to breathe loudly.

The demon looked at Wesley in disbelief as he brushed off his hands, beaming with satisfaction as though he had always wanted to do that.

"I never did like Wolfram and Hart employees. You can tell your bosses that when you report back to them that Lindsey is dead. Now, get out."

Wesley stepped to the side, avoiding the roaring demon body as it shot back the way it had come, disappearing out of the gaping hole where the entrance doors should have been.

After a moments silence when they were sure the beast was not going to return, the gang turned their attention to Wesley as he shuddered, the power and the strength needed to banish it having left him exhausted. They ran to his side as he slumped back against a wall for support, smiling at them weakly with all of the power gone. 

This was the authentic old Wesley, Cordelia could see that. She couldn't hide her relief to find that he had controlled 'it' himself, and that the danger had finally passed. Modest as ever, he refused to meet her appraising eyes, looking instead at his feet as he steadied himself again. 

The others were yet to say a thing, obviously finding it hard to think of the right words. Taking it upon himself to comment first, Wesley said the only thing that came to mind.

"Sodding demons", he muttered.

PART 19.

 

Lindsey hovered around his room, rubbing his arm absently. God, he was getting old. A little bit of being thrown around with reckless abandon and he had more bruises than you could shake a box of band-aids at. He'd be sixty before you could say Saga Holidays. OK, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but nevertheless, this experience had presented a few home truths that he hadn't considered seriously enough before. 

First of all, he realised that he just wasn't cut out for this demon fighting 'good guy' stuff. Second of all, he considered life to be way too short, and that time wouldn't wait around forever for him to get his act together. Lastly, he had discovered just how lonely he had been these last few...well...years.

Actually, he knew all of that already. That and the fact that you couldn't trust Wolfram and Hart as far as you could throw them. They were too crafty for their own good, and if he valued his life at all, he would do best to stay out of their way for the rest of his natural existence, and then some. They thought he was dead, and that was just fine by him, as long as it stayed that way.

It all boiled down to one thing in the end. He couldn't stay here. He wanted a family, a life of his own, unhindered and certainly not hounded. He'd done the career thing and learnt first hand that, be it an evil law firm or not, the kind of high profile he was used to didn't leave much in the personal time area. Was a quiet life with that special person too much to ask in his case? He didn't think so. Sure, he didn't deserve a lot of things, but doesn't everyone deserve a second chance to make things right? 

He looked at his poor excuse for a collection of belongings, lined up on the bed in front of him. A couple of old shirts that one of the others had dug up for him, a tatty old jacket that had seen better days, and the semi-valuable watch he had somehow managed to keep hold of through it all. Pathetic. Apart from the clothes on his back, he had nothing else of any value whatsoever. And he wasn't about to ask Angel for money. Maybe he could stretch to a bag, though...

Anyway, it wasn't as if he had nothing to his name. His previous job had paid well, and being a lawyer, he had known a thing or two about investment. He'd made previsions for just such a situation. He wasn't stupid...or naïve.

Angel wasn't going to like this. Lindsey could already imagine some of the things he might say to try to dissuade him from his idea, not that they'd work. He had made up his mind. 

Lindsey smiled to himself at the thought. Angel probably thought he had a new pet project to work on now. A self-improving ex-evil-lawyer to help tempt back from the dark side and set on his path. As sickeningly sweet as that sounded, Lindsey wasn't sure if he was ready enough to stomach Angel's good intentions just yet. Besides, this was something he needed to do one his own. He didn't fancy being fashioned into one more of Angel's 'grown-as-a-person' sidekicks, and he wasn't some broken spirited rouge Slayer that needed all the help he could get. He would cope.

Now all he had to do was break the good news. Easy.

The pendulum of the wall clock swung through the minutes, stretching them on until Lindsey was sure that the suspense would kill him. He'd told Angel that he needed to see him, so what was taking him so long? Did he know what this was about and was making him sweat out of some cruel sense of justice, or what?

Finally, the door opened without so much as a knock, making Lindsey start. Angel stood on the threshold expectantly, and Lindsey returned an uncomfortable stare. What? He wrinkled his brow for a second, unsure of what he was supposed to say. Angel gave him a 'duh' look and tapped something in front of him that Lindsey couldn't see. 

"Oh, right", Lindsey blurted out, suddenly realising. "Come in, Angel."

"Thanks", he said, entering. "You know, this is your room now, so..."

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about", Lindsey broke in, hoping the vampire wouldn't get too attached to the idea of keeping him around. He knew that Angel could keep him here if he really wanted to, especially if he had some twisted notion that it was his duty to help heal Lindsey's soul or something. And with Angel, that was probably a highly likely idea.

Angel stared blankly at him, making no move to sit or even look casual in any way. Lindsey felt uneasy and, not for the first time, decided that Angel was the weirdest person he'd ever met. Either he didn't know how to react in this kind of situation and was scared of frightening Lindsey off, or he was blowing hot and cold faster than a crummy motel shower. Jeez, pick a mood already.

Lindsey swallowed down his reservations and got straight to the point, tired of beating about the bush with pleasantries and politeness.

"Angel, I'm leaving."

There, that wasn't so hard.

Angel didn't respond, maybe waiting for him to go on, or thinking up some cocky comeback and a way to pound his ungrateful ass. Lindsey hoped it was the former. 

"Look", he continued, not waiting to find out for certain, "I know what you're going to say. But you have to understand; I don't do the group hug thing. I'm better on my own. That's the way it always has been and the way it's going to stay. You can rant and shout at me all you want but nothing will change that. And surely you of all people realise that I can't just hang around here and hope that Wolfram and Hart don't notice me; it doesn't work like that. It'll be better for all of you if I just go and do my own thing. I've got money...and I know a place I can go...and it's not like I had trouble starting out before, I mean, I got a job and..."

"Lindsey..."

Lindsey bit off his ramble and waited for the disagreeing lecture.

"I understand."

Lindsey blinked. "Huh? You do?"

"Sure. You want to do this yourself, and that's...good. It's something I could never do, but I've come to realise over time that people work in different ways. I know what it's like to try and deal on your own, and I couldn't do it. The guys here, they help with that. But I guess, if it's not your thing, you need to go on in any way you can to make it right."

Angel stopped and got a faraway look in his eyes. He thought of Faith and her struggle to come to terms with herself, realising that he couldn't have done anything better for her. She had needed to work it out for herself. Sure, Lindsey's case was maybe not as extreme as that, but who was he to judge? He didn't know what the man had done in his time with the firm, or what he might have to live with for the rest of his life. Exteriors were not much to go on, if Angel himself was anything to go on.

Lindsey eyed him doubtfully, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the rare glimpse into Angel's own feelings on the subject. He was trying to look unmoved, but Angel could sense that there was more to it than that.

"Um, yeah, OK. Whatever." He shrugged his shoulders and gathered up some stuff from the bed. Angel was a little surprised at his eagerness to leave.

"What? You're going now? Like, right now?"

Lindsey smiled. "There's no time like the present."

He brushed past his host into the corridor behind, stuffing the bundle of clothing under his arm. Maybe he'd forget about the bag, then.

Delayed reactions hindering him for a second, Angel turned to follow, stopping again when he saw that Lindsey was already half way down the hall, making his escape pretty fast. Maybe he just wasn't one for long goodbyes.

"Aren't you even going to see the others before you go?" he shouted after him, bewildered.

"Nah", Lindsey called over his shoulder, "I don't think they'll really miss me anyway. Tell Wes I appreciate what he did."

Angel gave it up and decided to just let the man go. He was about to retreat back into the room when Lindsey stopped at the corner and turned, looking back briefly.

"Oh and Angel...thanks."

And then he was gone.

* * *

The little red candle remained upright on the set of drawers, stubbornly refusing to move. Cordelia had insisted that he tried, for the sake of self-control, even though he knew it wouldn't work. She expected some spectacular display when she came back, but she would be disappointed.

Wesley stared at the annoying object even harder, determined that if he willed it hard enough, it would do something. He'd seen people do this sort of thing loads of times. It couldn't be that hard, could it?

"Come on, come on", he whispered, the mantra like words floating through his mind. 

The candle just sat there, like any good inanimate object should do. 

This was frustrating. Was intense concentration supposed to be this stressful? It had all been so easy to do earlier, that was the annoying thing. OK, so it was really draining, but he hadn't needed to think about it at all, it just came. Maybe that was what he was doing wrong; thinking about it too much.

Ahh, reverse psychology. If he pretended to ignore the thing, something might happen. He gave it a try, forcing himself to relax and look everywhere else in the room but at the candle. He could still see it, though, in the corner of his eye. Watching him, mocking him, doing everything but obeying his will. Damn candle. 

He pummelled a fist down beside him into the mattress in frustration, ready to give up once and for all. And the candle shivered and fell over, rolling to a stop against the bookstand.

Wesley smiled. He got up, replaced it back on its base again and returned to the bed, his enthusiasm returning. This time, he looked at it and tried to clear his mind of thoughts, concentrating instead on its red colour and its position on the wooden surface. 

He would very much like for it to move over slightly, if it would be so kind. He wasn't going to force it, but simply ease it and persuade it to disobey the laws of physics and gravity. Simple, really.

It took a little time, but Wesley was patient, and eventually, he felt something change in the air around him. It was hardly even perceptible, as slight as it was, but it was something. Almost forgetting what he was trying to do in the first place, he noticed in delight that the little red candle had begun to shake, and then sway back and forth on its base, as though someone was prodding it from the side. 

Trying not to concentrate too hard, he nudged it some more, until it almost tipped over again. Any moment now, he'd be able to lift it off of the drawers completely, maybe even move it around the room. If he could just keep...

The door to the room opened suddenly and he jumped back into awareness, his concentration snapped. The candle dived off of the surface and plummeted to the floor, throwing itself towards the doorway. It hit the ground with a dull 'thunk', the red wax breaking on impact.

Wesley sighed and relaxed when he saw Cordelia walk through, her eyes suspiciously regarding the jumpy little object now lying broken at her feet. She glimpsed Wesley looking at her and immediately thrust her palm out towards him, her chin raised in defiance.

"Talk to the hand", she ordered authoritatively, bending to pick up the candle by its wick, presenting it limp and bendy to its owner.

Wesley looked confused, but he took the candle from her anyway, waiting for her to explain.

"You know what I'm going to say", she informed him, rolling her eyes when he still didn't get it. "I'm going to say, 'I know what you're going to say, and don't', then you say, 'what?' and I say 'the sorry thing', and you say, 'oh'."

Wesley still didn't get it, but he didn't argue with her and nodded, hoping to placate her.

"Actually, I was going to ask how the others were", he said, throwing the now useless accumulation of chunks of wax stuck to some string away.

Cordelia slumped down beside him on the bed, giving a long-suffering sigh and turning her gaze to the heavens, or at least, to the nasty swirly plaster patterns that some genius of a decorator had thought looked original and kooky. 

"Where do I start?" she groaned, recalling everything that the last few hours had thrown at them. "Gunn can be such a moany baby when he's hurt. He wouldn't even let me near him with the antiseptic, the big wimp."

Wesley inwardly cringed in sympathy, but kept his attentive 'I'm listening' face on when Cordelia looked at him for support.

"I mean, what's a little stinging when you've already battled the big nasties, huh?"

"Oh, absolutely", Wesley agreed, hiding the smile tugging at his face.

"And as for Angel, who would have thought he'd turn into such a girl when it came to demon goo? He's been complaining to me the whole time about how he got blood all over him and it stained his favourite shirt. You'd think there would only be so many so-called 'favourite' black shirts a guy can have when they all look the same anyway. And you can't even see the purple. All he needs to do is wash the thing."

She fell quiet and here eyes wandered around the room, not really seeing anything in particular. Wesley got the feeling that she wasn't worrying about Angel's taste in clothing anymore, and decided to push her to speak again.

"So, everyone else's alright, I take it. That's great. But what about you?"

She turned to look at him, shrugging off her reverie like it hadn't happened, probably fearing that Wesley had noticed.

"I'm fine. No big scrapes here. I think you guys got the worst of it." She gave him a smile that wasn't all that convincing and then looked at her feet.

"That's not what I meant", Wesley clarified, turning serious for a moment. 

Cordelia studied the furniture in front of her in great detail before answering, not wanting to sound weak and soppy. That just wasn't the image she wanted to project. She was strong and she could handle anything. She didn't need a shoulder to cry on.

"I don't know", she admitted, "I guess I'm just...scared, now that everything's over. I know it sounds dumb, but before, when stuff was happening, I didn't get the chance to think about things, you know?"

"Like Harris?" Wesley filled in for her. She nodded.

"I don't want to let it get to me, and I don't believe in dwelling on things like Angel does. I don't want to feel sad. Is that wrong?"

Wesley smiled at her, understanding what she meant. 

"Its like, if I'm sad, it takes away everything he did, like it wasn't good enough. I know deep down that it was for the best, him dying, because no one should have to suffer like that. He didn't want to hurt people, and now he's not going to. He couldn't cope with it, Wesley, it would have destroyed him."

"You don't have to try and convince me, you know."

"I know, I know. I just wanted to explain it to somebody. So if you see me moping around doing an Angel impersonation you have to stop me, right? Promise you will, 'cause I want to be proud and happy for him, not sad that's he's gone. Promise."

"OK, I promise." She smiled at him then, relieved to have gotten it off of her chest. The need to share over, she jumped straight to the next subject like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"So, how'd it go?" she asked, her mood brightening somewhat. Taken aback a little by the swing, Wesley hesitated, repeating the question in his head. 'It'?

"The candle!" she prompted, poking him in the arm with impatience. 

"Oh! Um, it went...great, just great." Liar.

For some reason she seemed immensely pleased to hear that, genuinely excited on his behalf. 

"See", she said, playfully hitting him on the arm, "I knew you could do it. Just keep practising, and before you know it, you'll be professional. You've just got to keep at it, that's all."

She rose from her place and turned to leave, looking back at him at the door.

"I'm off to bed now, so you'll have some space to practice. And remember, you know what they say..."

"Yes I know", he answered as she closed the door behind her, patting the hardback copy of the book 'Reversal Spells' that lay hidden under the covers.

"Mind over matter."


End file.
